Instigator
by Onyxx-09
Summary: How did he run into her AGAIN? The sharp-tongued girl who seemed to constantly cross his path, the only one who could keep his attention, matching his strong attitude with her own. But he certainly didn't like her...right? More so, how did the two of them get locked in this room again? And why is she about to put a staple thru his cheek? Pietro/OC. Days of Future Past Quicksilver.
1. Interrogation (trial chapter)

_**EDIT:**_

_**I DID go see Days of Future Past literally the next day after posting this XD  
so I went back and edited details that didn't fit and were off according to the movie. But the bit about the files in here are entirely my own doing. it will play in later.**_

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_**First off, I haven't seen the movie Days of Future Past yet and I'm just going by the trailers, featurette information, and my own personal past knowledge. I was shocked by not being able to find any fics with THIS version of Quicksilver. (He looks SO COOL!) Also, this is all a trial on both this OC character and this pairing, so it's brief and quite simple because I currently don't entirely know how THIS Quicksilver is going to act like. And if the style of writing seems weird, that's mostly because I'm still not able to get out of the Monogatari series-style of writing I've been liking so I hope it's not too confusing or icky-looking. If so, please tell me and I'll change it. (If you don't know what type of style that is, watch an episode of Nisemonogatari.)**_

_**I'll surely be going over this time and time again correcting and editing constantly. I just wanted to post this before I went to see the actual movie.**_

_**Please don't forget to leave a review.**_

_**[Disclaimer:]** __I do not own anything connected with Marvel or Quickie, just my OC / __I might tend to draw inspiration from the Monogatari series, but no to that too**]**_

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"Now let's get this straight. I don't wish to be here, nor do I care what will happen—to you—after this."

He continued scowling at her thru his eyebrows.

"What's up; you look down? I'm only here because I was told to." To those who wouldn't have known her would have mistaken her comment as actual sympathy.

Unlike him.

He knew that the moment she stepped foot in the room, their invisible tug-of-war would resume. She constantly kept him on his toes—one day he could be handed a handsome handmade lunch with hearts and love contained within; other days he could have a pen shoved into his eye socket for breathing too loudly—and though they've only known each other for a certain amount of time...it was something he found incredibly alluring.

WAR

UNSPOKEN

HEARTS

"Do you always do what you're told," he countered just as coolly.

Her eyes narrowed to the boy sitting across the table. She knew she couldn't answer honestly—she knew that they were being watched.

She tilted her head to the side slightly, fingers toying the ends of her knees. "Is that the natural color of your hair? You know, I've never asked before nor has it ever come to mind until now.."

His hands instinctively flew to his head but then removed them just as quickly. "What kind of question is that?!"

"A 'yes' or 'no' one."

"Well it completely diverges the subject of this all, ya know." He rested his hands on his dark jeans, glaring as well.

"Well is it?"

"Change of subject."

It was more of a racket game of dominance between the two, of who can out-snide the other sometimes.

She sighed, "I wish to be here no more than you do. I could be doing much more productive things with my time..."

The boy shrugged and folded his arms. "You're presence is _very_ enjoyable, it reminds me of..._sunshine_ and _puppies_." Sarcasm overflowed from the comeback.

The girl glared back at him in silence, but he knew her remarks were far from over. Though she was no older than him, maybe give or take a few years or so, she proved to have a far more sharper tongue. Half of the time.

"I sense that to be either sarcasm in that previous comment of yours or that you actually tried to insult me by comparing me to things associated with children?"

Well, that wasn't exactly what he had meant, but, ok...

The slight wide-eyed look to his expression cued her to continue.

Her blank, provoking look to her eyes didn't change as she merely tilted her head to the side again. Her tone remained calm though her words stung like red iron: "I get from your slightly dumbfounded look that that _is_ true."

Well, he was sure another word surely could have been used instead of_ dumb_founded, and knew that that was just another of her verbal razors intended for him.

A mental picture of her sharpening a large knife, eyeing him, a slight smile to her lips, came to mind. Though the thought was an exaggerated metaphor, he still repressed a shiver.

IRON

SHARP

TONGUE

She was incredibly blunt, a trait that may made the task of interaction by others with her a challenge, as she would usually keep a straight face.

Instead, she then crinkled her eyes and finally her expression cracked into a thin, yet slight, grin. "What do you think I am, stupid?"

He blinked rapidly.

Cruel—she can be. A bit insensitive—surely. But stupid—that'd be pushing the standards, even for him.

His gaze drifted to the only other object in the room and the thing keeping them both distant. He could easily get to it, what she would go for before she, but remembered they were being recorded as well as watched by the faculty, and so thought against it.

Other supplies decorated the muddy-grey-colored desk, such as a small container of paper clips, a bottle of whiteout, ink, scissors, and an in-and-out bin stacked with papers he was sure his name was on somewhere. Mundane posters of _teamwork_ and _safety_ hung on the three of four walls. He turned his eyes from the lone bright red stapler that sat on the desk. An ink pen and sharpened pencil faced her direction.

_it's quite boring in there, actually..._

He had remained silent.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

He swallowed.

"Well...?" she pressed.

IMPATIENT

She has pretty eyes...

He opened his mouth and began to stutter. She interrupted him.

"You should be more considerate when speaking to a woman." She was back to wearing that stolid expression again. She looked to the single window out looking the parking lot.

"We're about the same age!"

"Again, consider_ate!_"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever."

She rolled her gaze to his direction, now glaring.

From an outside perspective, this may have appeared as all kinds of unhealthy. To one: wasn't he just putting up with an abusive, possessive, and cruel girl he knew? But then again, she dealt with an arrogant, constantly on-the-move, anger-prone boy.

"Why don't you just go back to the thing about _all this_," he rolled his wrist, indicating the small room they were in, "so I can hurry up and go."

"Always in a rush," she observed about him. _It's always "Go, go, go!"_

She eyed his legs around the desk, watching his thighs bounce rapidly, irritated.

"I can see that you're quite impatient. Does being in this room bother you?"

He narrowed his eyes, catching the taunting tone in her voice. Though she can be harsh at times, she is sincere with all she says, a truth he found he can hold on to.

At least it was never entirely boring. At least to him.

_he's a little bit of a spaz._

"Hm...does something about being locked in a room with a lone girl, with nothing but a desk, put you on edge?" A finger rested under her chin. This time she sounded truly curious.

"Do you realize what you just said sounded like it came from some kind of porno?"

She blinked. Obviously not.

"Seriously..."

Her lips slipped into a tiny pout. He dragged his gaze back up to her stony glare instead.

_Complete innocence_

Silence.

"Just get on with it," he sighed.

The girl straightened in her seat. "So," she begun, "I am supposed to sit here and question you and perform some kind of sympathy act that would cause you to gravel at my feet, piteously spilling all of your woes and reason to me," she answered instead, still in a calm manner.

_"Gravel." That was a bit much..._

"Therefore, causing all this to be over and for them come haul you away."

The boy's scowl deepened.

"But I'm not going to do that." She crossed her legs. She wore black knee-highs. "Despite what you may know of my father's good-doings and happy-go-lucky belief-speeches he speaks to the public, I don't believe in pity-motivation and such tactics that these shameful people who call themselves "good citizens" fall for; they only work on the weak."

His scowl softened.

"If you were a weakling, I'd no choice than to graciously place this pencil directly into that large sphere of plasma," she pointed directly at him, "known as your eyeball. As, a weakling would be a waste of my time."

His brow twitched. He was sure she meant "gracefully," not "graciously." Though either way, he was positive he wouldn't think it grateful to have his eye gouged out.

He sat back into the chair.

"You aren't a weakling, now, are you, Mister Maximoff?" The cocky tint to her impassive features didn't go unnoticed.

He countered: "Still posing on their side, Miss Capulet?"

This time, she did smile, though it was slight and sly. She became involved with the silver-haired boy following an accidental encounter not long ago. Though, she would swear that the incident had been entirely coincidence and she had been made the victim. There has since then set off a chain of events that caused the two to run into one another and bump heads. She has since grown to him.

Back to the present.

"Well I have to. After all, it was you who stole those files, now wasn't it?"

He went cold. How would she have known that?! More so, how would she have known it had been him; she couldn't have possibly seen him... Those files had been under lock and key in her father's office, where she said she never went.

He looked like a deer in headlights—it then dawned on him: _She said._

He mentally smacked himself.

_Those files_ had been a folder containing the names of numerous alleged mutants residing in this and the surrounding counties, some who are innocent but many were charged with one misdemeanor or another. One of them was a report about a man being held deep inside The Pentagon. There was also a legal act being written up against the local identified mutants amoung the files. It was one of the things he had been bribed to steal by thee men—one with long, boney claws. The one who had enforced Pietro's escapade was the shorter of the trio who had the longest hair and short patience. He had been influenced by the one with the glasses that the files might have possible candidates for students or something—must be about that card Pietro had read before. The impatient one had been only after the Pentagon file, however.

They were to come back next weekend for his alleged prison break mission.

But those documents had nothing to do with this interrogation. He was here because he was accused of several misconducts. Well, actually he did do them. The faculty are just trying to prove him guilty.

She didn't know he was mutant.

He regained himself. Cleared his throat. "What are you talking about?"

Her eyes narrowed. Her cheek was now on her fist. "Really, Pietro...?"

Silence followed.

Her gaze remained on his, unchanging, unwavering her harsh glare. Why was she even concerned about it anyway?, he wanted to challenge.

The room felt like it was spinning. Like it was all way too, TOO slow.

He wanted to run up the wall from the tension. Until finally, she sighed, placing her hands on the desk as if to stand. His gaze remained on her. His heart raced momentarily.

"Ohhh," she moaned, stretched, "so I suppose you were wrong."

Then in one fluid, almost surprisingly quick, motion, she reached across the table and held the red stapler in his mouth.

He hadn't even flinched.

"You are a weakling, Pietro.."

He could have easily moved out of her way but decided to let her gain the upper hand, taking the abuse.

She lightly clicked the stapler around his skin. He felt the metal press to the inside of his cheek. He knew that he could easily, quickly move out of the way even now, but also knew that he had a half a chance of his move either working, the staple leaving two long streaks across his face as he moved, or her getting him another day. Either way, he knew that if he dealt his cards wrong, he'd have metal poking out the other side of his face.

The minutes seemed to tick into hours.

Following the first time they met, there had involved a quarrel, several office supplies, and a box-cutter.

He was surprised no one has rushed into the room by now to separate them yet.

"Now," she continued in her familiar calm manner, "I'm going to ask you one more time..." She then winked at him, which caused an eyebrow raise from him. "I know you were the one who stole all those files containing my _homework_." There was that wink again. "You were just jealous that I was receiving higher scores on the tests, and so you stole those files from behind my back."

It took him a moment, but he begun to see what she was doing there.

"Who did you give them to and what did they want?" she asked.

His voice gurgled slightly around the stapler. "This is a bit of a personal matter to be discussed here, now isn't it, Rainy?"

Rainy. It was the name her mother gave her which her father hadn't had a say in the matter. Pietro remembered the tattoo on her shoulder that complimented her name.

"No." Her tone was heavy now. "This is a far bigger concern than _personal_."

Yup, he concluded. She was referring to her father's—the town's soon-to-be major by the looks of the election—stolen files, some he was preparing to send to the government.

Pietro tried to ignore the fact that she was hovering over him while still on top of the desk, a propped knee giving a slight peek under her skirt if he was to tilt his head just a little bit.

The stapler clicked together around his cheek in warning. He was delaying his answer.

"Hm, because all they had to do is ask if they wanted help."

Now his eyes widened fully. Did she realize what she was inviting herself into?! An all-out war!

"No! Of course not!"

She looked taken aback. "Huh? And why not?"

Pietro paused.

_Uh oh._

Red Territory

_SHIT._ What could he say to that? That it was too dangerous?—No. That is was top-secret?—that'd just cause her to press the details further. That it could put her life and family at risk?—she wouldn't care and would be up for "the adventure." That it only involved mutants?—certainly not!

"Because you're a girl!"

CLICK

Wrong answer.

Pietro crumpled between his knees, cradling his injured cheek in a hand. Above him and on the desk still, she stood on her knees looking down on him in more ways then one. Actually, she was more like glaring at the silver-haired boy.

She humphed. "And I thought you were a little better than that, Pietro."

He didn't, _couldn't_ say anything after that.

A shadow of her hair was cast over her eyes. She clicked the stapler again in warning.

RED

She knew he would be growing angry. But didn't quite care.

She definitely earned an explanation from him after he would leave here. He wasn't planning to return to this school anyhow, and had made that clear in the few "goodbyes" he left several administrators.

Before he could utter a counter rude remark, she commanded: "now, admit you were the one who filled those gym underwear with the lunch pasta."

He was silent

"And that you also did that _prank _on Coach."

Pietro grunted.

"And don't forget taping that sign that said 'GIVE ME A SLAP ON THE BACK IF YOU THINK I'M A TERRIBLE TEACHER' on Mr. Genevieve's back."

He glared up at her in almost hatred.

"Hey, Maximoff. Don't you think I deserve an answer, especially after all this," came her unwavering voice.

He was on top of her quicker than humanly possible. Her eyes widened more as he pressed her shoulders to the desktop. His hand was over hers that was still holding the large stapler. Her legs had come from under her, now tangled with his. She could swear he was trembling slightly.

Pietro gritted his teeth. He was definitely anger now. "Fine, I admit it! What do you want from me!"

She blinked, quiet for several moments. "Just that. So, nothing anymore."

He then realized what he'd just admitted to, and kicked himself on the inside.

"You just confessed to them." She turned her head to the only door, otherwise unmoving from her back to the desktop. "Looks like our time here is finished.."

IMPULSIVE

He looked stunned.

"Now if you're finished with your perverted antics, at least take me to dinner first."

He jumped away from her.

Rainy stood slowly, brushed herself off for good measure.

"Remember our talk at the park. And I can't go around helping those who hide and steal from me; at least pick one of the two. And to be honest, it's easier for me to help with something more personal. After all, it's simpler."

"Simpler...?"

"Yes." She turned away, listening to the door. "Sounds like the deans are coming for you now, Pietro. This will of course be picked up after your condemn?"

Couldn't she have used a different word—punishment, convict, sentence?—anything than something that meant earning the death penalty?

He was going to have to meet her somewhere far away from nosey ears. He couldn't explain everything, but he would what he could. He still contemplated revealing he was a mutant.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

She smiled a little, winked.

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_**By the way, I do know a girl named Rainy and she's pretty awesome, and told me I could use her name. She's nothing like this OC in here though.**_

_**If there are any words of concerns or preferences or questions, please by all means, speak them. Please tell me what you think of this pairing. Do you want me to write more of them or perhaps an entire fic? Was this not enough and should I do another, more detailed one? Was it just "ok?" I might just add another, so you just might want to stay tuned.**_

_**Please don't be one of those despicable people who do not send reviews. Nobody likes them.**_


	2. Fascinat

_**This chapter seems long only because this A/N is long. Here's a second installment like you all wanted, and in response to your reviews I have decided to add more and have already written up more chapters ahead of time so I can have things to upload instead of having you all wait too long, you know**_

_**For this, with this second installment PLEASE tell me if this all seems like it's moving too fast. Now as a warning, I personally don't think this chapter has lived up to my expectations or is as fast as the first and I greatly apologize and I'm just as disappointed as you might be. I had a chapter planned to come before this one, but I've been trying to write it for too long and restarted it literally more than five times but it still felt awkward and shitty to me and it just didn't live up to my expectations. So I'm just uploading this instead.**_

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_**Now to start off, I want to thank you all 600+ viewers for reading this, favoriting this, and if I could I'd give all you reviewers all banana freakin' splits! I surely would! I'm so serious because you all just seriously made my day, my week. How long has it been since I published this again; an actual week, right, I think? I never thought this would be so liked. Thank you so much, really.**_

_**Now, this passed weekend I DID go see the movie, and I was NOT disappointed and can honestly say I was one of those who were practically screaming and crying at the screen. Especially on parts with Xavier, Storm, and Jean, just to name a few and to not give any spoilers. And Magneto's speech...that was deep, man. I literally applauded after it. My friends said I was still grinning from ear to ear afterwards.**_

_**Speaking of Magneto's speech, I might do a play off of that as a next "chapter," if you want. (But I guess these are more of oneshots or drabbles or whatever, since I can't promise they will be in order. I like the sound of installments a bit better. What about you ?)**_

_**Oh, and before I forget: About the first installment, I do plan to correct the few parts and details that were incorrect in relation to the movie. Just as soon as I figure out just WHAT to replace them with.. And anyways, obviously, I'm still on my mutant high right now and so wanted to upload more like you all wanted. Thank you so soooo much again.**_

_**'K. Enough of my rambling. Got to go track down a friend of mine who's been swamped with homework. Ya' know, my best friend favors James McAvoy (young Prof X) pretty well except he's blonde. Okay, I'm talking too much now..**_

_**[ Disclaimer: I already put it in the first installment, so go look there. ]**_

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It was Thursday. And just like every other Thursday, or any day for that matter, Pietro was left to his own devises, forever stuck in this godforsaken slow world.

He leaned back, craning his neck back to the clouds. His chest heaved as he regained his breath from his previous run. His bright hair was a mess.

Earlier, an argument had broken out between his sister, Wanda. The result of it had been her setting the backyard shrubbery on fire and him disappearing in a blur to go to blow off steam, of course, by doing what he did best: running. And in his impulsive decision he had decided to run the perimeter of surrounding three states in under twenty minutes. It was a new record for him; and upon returning, had collapsed where he is now.

And there was no one around.

He wondered why he had decided to come to a park instead of back home—but then he remembered Wanda and decided to get comfy where he was. Wanda avoided parks like The Plague; she always had bad run-ins and terrible "coincidences" when she came to parks.

He didn't come to the park for any particular reason than to avoid his sister.

_Had arrived here randomly, going wherever his feet carried him._

But as the only park in town, he felt as if he was the only person in the world. It added that it was a holiday, so whatever little kids that would have been here are gone with their families.

ALONE

_Perhaps it's an exaggeration, but it felt as if the park belonged to him. As if it would be perfectly alright if he never returned home._

He had collapsed under the flagpole. It was on a hill at the center of the park; there was a low concrete wall that surrounded the base of the pole in a square formation, which also served as a makeshift sitting area overlooking the entire park. In a way, it was like overlooking your own colorful kingdom.

Far off to his right passed a swings set, he watched a small girl look at the town map printed on the side of a nearby building. Pietro perked a bit. She left without a glance in his direction. She was only looking for directions.

_Alone again_

In front of him, a large colorful circular jungle gym blocked most of his view. If his sister did happen to come past, he most likely wouldn't even see her.

It was funny that despite many saying that the two don't really look alike for twins, they possess the same attitude, particularly stubbornness.

_"If you're going to be like that—-" Wanda had said before the bushes beside her went up in flames._

He dropped his head in his hands, remembering unwanted. He made the memory go away; he didn't' want to think about anything stressful.

_She had jumped, surprised herself, before he had taken off._

It was a good thing they had been in the back and not the front yard, or else they would have been victim to screams, accusations, and perhaps worse if they had been seen.

But it was days like this which when staring at the sky, when he was pretty calm like this, that he could go at his own speed without worry, when he became tired of his inability to synchronize with the world. He knew that time was constantly passing by much longer for him than it was for the rest of the world. He wondered if one day it could get better, for him or the world.

_Maybe this is what you call self-loathing?_

Normally, he's not the type to be troubled easily, as if the word "troubles" has no such power over him. But every so often, he ends up in conditions like this.

_He's very sensitive to such things, when he loses his cool and gets restless_

The normal days are the best. He wishes that tomorrow would come sooner.

He was so lost in himself, he didn't notice the approaching presence until it was too late to escape.

"Oh, my. Well, well." The voice was soft, feminine. The sound of heels clicked along the concrete. "I thought someone left a kicked dog around here." She stops. "But it turns out it's just you, Pietro." She called his first name, knowing he hated when people did.

His lips parted when he saw it was her, again—Rainy Capulet.

She stood in between the colorful climbing bars, eyes crinkled with a smile.

He looked taken off guard.

"What? I was just saying hello," she defended innocently, "it was a joke."

He blinked. He was used to her words that can switch from warm to harsh at the flip of a coin. He was used to her blunt, honest attitude that changed freely with her mood. He was used to seeing her in school clothes, a simple shirt, jeans or dressy skirt at most. He was NOT used to seeing her in street clothes.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling.

"No, uh.."

"Well, then? Pietro, you little boy," she remarked about the goggles he'd forgotten were still around his forehead. "Were you just fascinated by my charming street clothes?" She jumped up on an elevated stepped block, hoping her way down the path to his direction. "A moment of bliss, perhaps?" Her white shoes clicked against the steps.

_That may have been a bad pun, but he really was fascinated._

She wore a simple black shirt and grey shorts that were fitted along her top and flowed as it fell. White lined the collar of the shirt, trailing around her chest to a white bow underneath where her bra held. Black thigh-highs and ponytail made up the rest of her attire.

She can be pretty damn cocky herself at times.

He didn't answer, looking for the right comeback. She didn't take it as so.

"Anyway, fascination's meaning is the inability to look away, isn't it?" She landed on solid ground. She began making her way up the stairs to the flagpole, not breaking eye contact. "Don't you know? The word originates from the Latin word _fascinat, _which is where we get _bewitched _from," she rambled.

She jumped the last step and now stood in front of him.

He defended himself: "I'm just surprised because those clothes gave off a different air than what I saw you in before. That's it. Nothing else, alright."

"I guess," she sighed. "I guess it's because I was wearing mellower clothes then."

He mused this over.

"Speaking of which, I bought this whole outfit yesterday." She continued: "But I'm happy; I wanted you to see these clothes first, if possible, if I happened to run into you of course."

_It was a small town_

""If you wanted to show them to me first"...? Why are you making it sound like a stroke of luck or honor?"

She placed her hands on her hips and bent down closer to him, coming in his face, making sure he heard her. "I didn't want to show you them. I wanted you to see them." Her silver necklace bounced against her chest. "The nuance is completely different."

He frowned.

Her eyes were unwavering and _(dare he say it) _bewitching.

She straightened her stance. "By the way, Pietro, just what are you doing here?" The smile before was gone now.

"Uh, walking. Sitting now." He lied—being a smartass. "Why are you here?"

She looked to the neighboring apartments. "This used to be my place. I used to live around here, but of course, like most things, that all changed...obviously," she paused.

He bounced his leg. He watched her gaze remain to the buildings, thinking thoughts that made him question his sanity.

There was a kind of sadness about her features.

Rainy and Pietro had introduced themselves under stressed and unsure circumstances. Even though they've been in the same class, prior, they've never interacted. Never needed to. Now, it was almost inevitable how they keep running into each other. It was almost as if they were being forced by the gods to get to know each other where otherwise, they would have never proceeded to.

Now, one couldn't shake off the other.

"It's not that I'm emotional about it, but... For some reason seeing how where I lived has changed, it makes my motivation slip."

"Motivation?" he spoke a heartbeat after, in reflex.

"Yes. You know, since last month."

He followed her gaze to a sign that read Uptown Valley—the name of the apartment complex.

She glanced at him. "My father wants the entire place torn down," she told him randomly. "My mother never speaks against him for anything. That's why I can't stand this town, to be trapped here with them."

He looked up at her, and for once, didn't say anything.

Her father was many things to the public: for some, he is the political leader they have been waiting for the town; to others, he was a guy who was a former coworker who is making it to the top; then to some, he is an active anti-mutant supporter; still to a few, he is known as a family member, a son, a brother, husband, or father.

Pietro couldn't say the man was a loving person because he never met him in person.

"Who's to say you gotta stay here anyway? It's a big world out there, they say, don't they? But isn't that unavoidable? About the moving-away-thing? I mean, you wouldn't really have a choice on where to go as the time being, with your parents and all, especially given your dad's tryna become major?" he asked, speaking as if he didn't have enough time.

She didn't answer right away. "That's right, it is unavoidable." She gripped the strap to the yellow bag on her shoulder. "Hey, Pietro. You don't care if I sit next to you, do you."

He paused. "Next to me?" It was said as if in unwanted belief.

Her face was stolid. "There's something I want to discuss with you."

Yes, of course I don't want you to!—is what he wanted to say. But the words never came. He was left staring up at her like an idiot. Instead, he choked out a "fine." He wouldn't say it, but having an entire bench to himself, especially now with her in front of him, made him feel a bit uneasy. Even more knowing there would be nowhere to run now.

She slid in close next to him.

CLOSE

Her leg bumped his. He looked at her but she didn't give any notion at moving. She didn't even look at him.

_touch_

He looked over at her and his chest jumped into his throat. He questioned his sanity.

"I thought I would try thanking you for your help."

"Uh," he slurred, "I don't care about that." He took the goggles from his forehead feeling his face heat up. "I'm not the type of guy for apologies, always seems too sentimental."

She smiled at him. It was small, but a smile nonetheless. "If you're not willing to accept an apology, I can thank you in a different way." She was leaned in closer to him now, her features serious now.

"Stop thinking you have to owe me something." It came out a lot harsher than he intended.

Her brows raised in an un-amused manner. He inched away to put distance between his jeans and her.

He redeemed himself: "it's gonna make getting along and knowing you tougher, ya know."

Her eyes were wide at him now. "Getting along, huh?" She scooted next to him, purposely eliminating the space once between them, knowing his intentions.

He bounced his legs rapidly. Adrenaline had sudden begun coursing thru him at high speed. She noticed and drummed her fingers on her thighs.

She looked out onto the empty playground. Both remained silent for sometime, just taking in the surroundings—well, Pietro's mind was going at high speed. But Rainy wasn't finished.

"Pietro."

He resisted correcting her about his name, and instead acknowledged that he heard her.

Then suddenly came: "can I think of you as someone dear?" She turned to him.

CLOSER

Her appearance alone was totally unexpected. But this—this was completely un-fortold. He was at lost for words, a rarity for those who knew him.

This was her. This was _Rainy Capulet _who had appeared unannounced on more days than he can count. This is her who was asking him such an unusual and seemingly unnatural question. If he were to be asked this by her months ago, he would have probably gotten angry, blown her off and left. But still, even now, he found "no" on the tip of his tongue. He didn't know _how_ he constantly ran into this girl, nor why he constantly tolerated her if he didn't stand her presence.

"You're not the type who makes friends easily, are you?" he answered instead.

Now she was beginning to appear angry. "I have. I have several whom I consider close friends. I also know more people than you have family."

"Are you trying to pick a fight!?" He gritted his teeth.

She had no idea that all that he knew was his twin sister, Wanda; the Romani woman, Marya Maximoff, who has been raising them since they were young; and Marya's daughter.

"Well I guess..." Her voice remained calm, her voice trailing, becoming soft once more. "What about you? I remember how you didn't really speak to many at school," she added.

He weighed his options before responding. "Yeah, so? I had a sorta...shift in things these passed several years. A lot of things, actually." He wondered why is he speaking so much to her. Then to bounce back, he retorted, "were you always this cryptic and hard?"

Rainy looked to him, her head tilted slightly, a sight he found he could never look away from. Her eyes wide, didn't flicker from his. Her lips set in a line. "I never really care much for many people on a deep level, I haven't for a long time. I didn't really stay around many people. But I was like that a bit up until recently. More specifically, until I met you."

_What is this?_

_What is she saying; what is she meaning?_ The thought quickly ran thru his mind. He felt like he was beginning to lose it.

Pietro swallowed. She leaned a little closer.

CLOSER

"What I also mean to say, Pietro, is no matter what you say, I have to pay you back."

CLOSER

"Once that's over..."

His vision spun.

"...we'll be more comfortable, be on even footing and become friends," she whispered, her face close.

Every time she would lean in closer, to emphasis her point, he would bend a little to the side, where now she was practically leaning over on top of him.

And then her words processed: _And become friends._

FRIENDS

She had smiled.

Later that day, he locked himself in his room; fingers twined in front of his lips, leaned over and tapping his legs, he couldn't help but feel a lot letdown.

* * *

_**How is this? Not too bad I hope. I really feel as if this one not as uppity as last one. I'll try to make up for that in the next one, yes?**_

_**I saw how many of you wanted more, so I'm going to take a whack at the Marvel universe and try my hand at this character. If you all like this, I could do a few more installments? And I'm still debating whether I even should update that chapter that was supposed to come before this one; maybe I'll look at it again after a few days...? I'll definitely correct the first installment as soon as I think up of something, which will probably be this week..**_

_**I didn't do this update without the reviews and words of encouragement. Reviews are the only thing that will tell me whether this is "just ok" or not, or if I should stop now while I'm ahead. So please send them in! Oh, and prompts, suggestions are welcome**_


	3. Interrogation II

**_Dang what happened to all the reviews?_**

**_This isn't enough yet for you all, is that it?! I know; more will be coming soon anyways. Please forgive me, I would have uploaded sooner except I had a math test last Friday that I REALLYYY needed to study for. You see, math and I are enemies destined to engage in warfare until the end of time so I had to make sure I won this battle._**

**_Anywho, this is the chapter that was to go after the trial chapter (in place of "chapter 2"). Yeah, I just sucked up being undecided and did my best to throw ish together to make something what I hope is somewhat decent and that connects to the rest of this...story? If it's not good, I don't think so very much of it either so wait 'til the next one to hopefully see better. So I guess you could say this tid bit is to hold you over until I post again, which should be by next weekend at the latest. (But reviews will make it sooner ;D )_**

**_I was unsure of using this line-divider thing in the story like below. So I feel a little weird about it._**

**_Also, I fixed the improper details in the first installment that didn't fit with the movie. I'm keeping some parts though because: A.) it would be difficult to remove, given if so, there would be large chucks extracted and that would be hazardous; B.) those detail will help with this story later_**

**_And just to make it clear, I WILL NOT update without reviews. Why should I keep adding to a story that no one is giving any acknowledgment of?!_**

**_[Disclaimer: I'm not putting this again after this chapter; this is just as precaution. In other words, go read it in the first installment . ]_**

* * *

Rainy shuffled thru the papers in her hands. She was on her knees in her father's personal study, a room off-limits to her and her mother—it was a rule unspoken by either parent but evident since she was little.

She was the only one home now.

She knew the combination to the safe in the small closet to the right since she was four. Her father should have never sat her on his lap and told her that the code was her birthday, not thinking that one day she would come to resent him. Actually, it was not her birthday exactly, but the day she _should have_ been born.

As she thumbed thru the many manila folders, there was indeed one missing—she'd already checked days before, but she found herself coming back again and again to flip thru the white filing papers, of fliers and contracts, the same ones _he_ had without her immediate knowledge. Though it had made sense when she had seen him walking on the opposite sidewalk, seeming to have come from the direction of her home before taking off at a jog.

She hoped that those files were in good hands now. Though she knew her father would suspect she had done it, she had had good reason to have used that stapler... She couldn't reveal that they had been robbed.

Why?—she didn't fully know herself.

* * *

The back of her hair rose from the sensation of being watched, though as she whirled around, her stance relaxed seeing who it was.

"Oh, it's just you."

Pietro frowned. "Well good morning to you too, Miss Sunshine." His pace met up with her in the hallway. "So we're a witch as usual today? Good to know nothing's changed."

"So we meet again," she joked. She decided to let his insult go for the time being. "I take it you're not in the best of moods this morning," she left the comment open purposely.

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "How would you know that, what is that of any concern to you? You think you can read me _that_ easily, like a book, like you can read my mind or something? Cause it doesn't work that way I doubt you could even comprehend that, things don't work like that you don't know me."

Rainy tilted her head slightly in his direction. It was a trait he had noticed she does and was beginning to be very winsome to him. "My uncle has studied human behavior and body language for years, and my aunt it a licensed professional therapist, both showed me practices of their study for a long time," she answered only part of his ramble. "And I doubt _that_ would be difficult to understand at all."

They were both on their way to class of a new week, one inwardly pleased towards herself, the other absolutely dreading his return.

It's been several weeks since the last time they interacted, since she interrogated him. Rainy counted it on one hand.

Despite having attended the same high school and middle school, the two didn't know of each other's existence until two years ago. And still, neither had made an effort to. Both had been...different people then.

Inside, Rainy still holds a small grudge to the teacher that had paired them together for that lab.

As for the conversation at hand: he wasn't rushing thru the hall, or was even late for that matter, which was an immediate notion that something was off.

In technical, they haven't spoken for more than five hours if you were to add up the total time, rather than for others' who'd normally add up to days, weeks; the rest of their time had been filled with shooting looks and sticking tongues.

_"I doubt your mind would be difficult to comprehend at all."_

Pietro frowned. "Someone's a real ass in the morning."

Some of the students in the hallway glanced their way. A few gave suggestive, judging looks. At this school, it can be easy to begun being judged. It didn't help that they were close to the capital, as many political opinions trickled down to them.

"Geez, do you have to say something so hurtful," she sounded genuinely shocked and hurt. It was feigned.

_REALLY!?_

Pietro looked at her, mouth open and eyes wide. He sputtered for an explanation, completely fooled. Before he could blurt his answer, she was back to her stolid self.

She quickened her pace to be several steps in front of him. Pietro's eyes burned into the back of her head.

"Oh, before I forget: how did your partners in crime go? Those files are in good hands aren't they, I hope." She didn't even glance back behind her.

_Straight to the point_

He shuffled his backpack further up his shoulder. A hand ran thru his hair, windblown from running to school. He grunted, "yeah, they are," wondering once again why she was so intent on the care of case files that didn't in any way involve her.

He ran his tongue over the healing staple wound inside his cheek.

Before they separate for their seats in class, she had muttered something out of earshot, and it sounded a lot like "how cute."

Pietro wrinkled his nose, rolling his eyes as she went over to join other students. He rested his chin on his folded arms on the desk. The way she had been on the brink of crying a month ago randomly came to mind.

She would still want an explanation, he knew.

**. . .  
. . .**

There was something about Pietro Maximoff, just something about that odd boy in her class that caught something inside her. Though, she has to admit that at first she had been completely against the thought of being in the same room as he, much less start a conversation with. It wasn't a mean or intentionally rude intention—she wouldn't put the effort into meeting _anyone_, any new people for more...personal reasons.

More often than once the two of them would be seen glaring at each other across the room; Rainy has found that she couldn't help it when her gaze would drift towards him at the mention of odd and energetic. Although, and unfortunately she believes, that wasn't the only and last time they interacted that day.

She was running into him more and more. And she would frown from it.

But what sealed her fate was that one day the teacher had assigned pairs for lab. Hand raises and chirps were ignored as students were seemingly intentionally put with those despised or usually hadn't paid much attention to - like she had. Then, Rainy had found it odd that the boy was so quiet during most of class but during that lab together, he talked _so_ much.

_He didn't talk to many_

He wasn't a very quiet person, she found that right off the back, but he wasn't being bullied either, so a more rational question would be: what was the reason for his anti-sociality? It must have resulted by something out of his control..?

_"Maybe it's his hair?"  
her friend had thought aloud, once_

But after that day, Rainy found that she unintentionally, unwillingly ran into him time and time again—and school was no exception. So one can imagine her face whenever she steps inside the classroom, knowing that the constant buzzing that was his voice would be set on GO.

_Even when he jumped up in his seat during class with a smirk on his face, raising his hand in request to partner with her for the science assignment, she groaned to herself_

_He knew what he was doing_

_It must have been planned_

_Because the teacher accepted_

_Closing her eyes, she resisted the reflex to smack him when he grabbed her arm after the chemical dripped on her_

_She is still getting used to the acknowledgement of touch._

But still, she wasn't going to let go what he had done.

Despite, over time and against her better judgment, Rainy was starting to become more and more accustomed to this energetic boy who seemed like a wound-up toy let loose. Maybe that is why she was allowing him to walk alongside her down the sidewalk after school. He had insisted that there was something he was to say to her anyway...

"Don't think I'm going to let my guard down," she had told him. "If you try anything, I'll cut it off," she warned.

"_Woah—_cut what off?"

She hadn't answered and had begun walking again already, passing him to walk ahead. He couldn't help but notice how she came up just to his shoulders.

"By the way, Pietro, where's your backpack?"

He had ran into her after school asking for her to come with him _somewhere_. Already, she had her brows arched, also from seeing he had apparently gotten rid of his school stuff. But surely he couldn't have made it all the way home and back to the school in those few minutes the last bell had rung..

He growled, "don't call me Pietro."

"Why wouldn't I call you by your first name. It is Pietro, isn't it? Unless it isn't and it's some kind of cover-up identity. Could you possibly have a secret identity; are you some kind of sicko that plans to isolate girls and fulfill your ill desires? Don't think I won't put up a fight just because I'm a lady."

"Do you have to be _that _much a bitch?" He knew that her words were not intentional insults—she had no control over them; how could she when she didn't know most of the time?—but still, sometimes he wished she knew when she would go a bit far.

She placed a hand on her chest. "Ouch, your words hurt. You see? My heart is breaking right here."

He rolled his eyes at her concern. "It's not pronounced _Pee_-tro. Call me Peter okay? I'm tired of people getting it wrong all the time so call me Peter from now got it?" He spoke in his usual manner as if he didn't have enough time.

"And your backpack?"

He had totally forgotten about that. He lied: "I have to keep both hands free. You know, if something happens and I can fight freely." He placed his hands atop his head.

She paused.

He continued along until realizing she was no longer following.

"You waited until we got here to say that..." She took a step back. "You set me up, didn't you?"

"C'mon. If I was going to do anything, don't you think I would have by now? We're just walking. The thing is that you don't know what's going to jump out on the street; it's just precaution. Cool your jets."

STARE

_Wasn't she the one who invited him?_

"Look, I'm not going to do anything, it'd just be a waste of effort and time you'd probably just chew my ears off in the process anyway."

She considered this. And after a moment of thought, supposed she could go along with his words. Didn't mean she necessarily thought them true, though.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Like I said earlier, I'm not letting my guard down."

"What is that supposed to mean," he questioned as she passed him.

Rainy folded her arms. "Listen up," she twirled, her skirt flowing. She had her suspicions and they ran deep. "I have five hundred goons who know where I am and what I'm doing—with you, at this very moment. If I were to go missing or go without contacting them, they will go and attack your family."

His brows arched before his hands raised in surrender. He mouthed a silent _Ohhh_. "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be _fine_. Promise. Scout's honor," he joked. He was going to try and be the good guy for now.

She didn't even crack a smile.

Rainy rolled her eyes. Pietro burned glares into her back.

Both walked in silence for a time, which was absolutely _killing _Pietro. He already couldn't quicken his pace; he couldn't just break off at lightening speed down the road just because she was taking "too long." He was here for a reason.

The sun was beginning to low in the sky and the afternoon began dropping in temperature. The sound of birds had increased; a stray cat crossed their path. Rainy merely glanced at the black cat and kept walking. They had been walking for what felt like an eternity into some further part of town.

Rainy finally broke the quiet: "so, what is it you wanted to speak about?"

Pietro snapped his head toward her. "Huh?"

"We've been walking for almost five minutes in silence. It's quite unnerving actually, and doesn't help oppose to my idea before, even _if _it was a slight joke."

_Slight?  
__So part of it WAS true suspicion?!_

"Oh yeah." Then he caught on and his eyes narrowed. "Look, I _said _I'm just telling you something I didn't want others to hear. And I live this way too." He lied about the last part.

"Hm," she mused. "Then speak."

_Like a command_

"My turn is coming up," she advised.

He glanced around. She watched his hands bury in his jacket pockets. "You know—about those files, they _are_ in good hands—but it wasn't my fault in the first place. I was threatened. No, tricked. I mean bribed, I was bribed you see, so I _had_ to. It was these three guys who just came to my house and wanted me to help with some big historical event that is to happen and apparently I'm a big help in it. So it's not like I could really turn that down, I mean who would?! Those files are with them. These couple of guys came to the door and wanted my help—I can't say much about it because they don't want me to. It's all on the hush hush. I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to so don't get mad. That means now you can't tell anyone. _Anyone_. 'Cause I'm holding you to this—and don't think I forgot about your "condition," 'cause I haven't told anyone of it still. So don't speak this to anyone. Not even your mom. I can't even tell mine; she'd kill me if she knew. And I swear if you _do_ tell anybody, by god I'm dragging you down with me, got it?"

Rainy was silent for some time, just taking it all in. So her father was digging himself a deeper hole than he could get out of..?

"Do you even know these men in any way?" She finally asked, in a monotone voice.

Pietro shrugged. "I do enough. The big one looked a bit sketchy, though.. It's not like I really need to necessarily, right? It's just this quick thing and that's it, nothin' to it."

Rainy didn't say anything.

_The way he answered that made it seem ill- thought out,_

_Like he was up to no good._

She turned to him. "Can you say of anything this _big _factor you're supposed to be apart of?"

"No," he sighed.

She turned back ahead. "Ok."

She wasn't going to press the issue. It was probably a gang he had gotten himself in trouble with. Not her problem, right? And it's not like she'd even miss him, right...?

Silence again.

Just before she turned to her right to go down the narrow street that would lead home, she spoke, glancing to him only once.

"Now, watching over you is not my responsibility, despite what Mr. Genevieve might think—-"

"Genevieve thinks I need watching over!?" he interrupted, learning this new information.

"-—so I'm not going to scold you about your decisions like I'm your mother," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "I wouldn't _want_ to be your mother. In fact, I feel mighty sorry for her at times—-"

"-—Geez thanks."

"-—but you've made it this far, so that shows you have somewhat a brain inside there. So I'd advise you use it well before you lose it." She flicked a finger to his direction. "Or it might come oozing out of your ears all squishy and slimy. Maybe while you sleep."

Pietro's face was a narrowed, don't-fuck-with-me mask. "Thanks for the imagery. I'm going to sleep exceptionally well tonight."

Rainy twirled on her heels.

* * *

**_It's mundane, yadda yadda yadda, I knowww! Like I said before, if you have any complaints or other words to say - good or bad - say so. Just no flames please. Or threats.._**

**_ok now reply:_**

**_to Miccacode: _**_those circumstances and meetings are actually to come sooner than you may think.. *hinthint winkwink* And Thank you so very much !_

_And thank you so so much for you others who reviewed. Now for the rest of you alerters on the other hand..._

**_Also, I had gotten a reviewer telling me that the conversations were a bit hard to follow. Sorry about that and anyone who might have felt the same way. I'll try to not make them so complex now on. Like this one. Is it okay now ?_**

**_you all, PULEEZE don't forget to leave a review ! More reviews = quicker updates._**


	4. Chapter 1: Rainy Reptile I

_**This focuses on Rainy and a glimpse of her background. This can be looked at as being the first chapter, I guess, since it's supposed to take place months before the previous 3. I feel like this is kind of a ramble though, which I'm not quite happy for...**_

_**Also, I couldn't decide whether the teacher should be Mr. or Ms./Mrs. That will be you all's decision.**_

* * *

Rainy Capulet was a quiet girl. With not only having an unusual name that acquired her share of teasing in the past, she has also obtained a sort of reputation throughout her peers. Even though throughout most of middle and high school she has attended the same classes with the same students who are still in the same labs and library study time as she, somehow she had acquired that title.

_Since mid-junior high she had been regarded as a so-called "weak girl."_

Which was ironic because she looked absolutely normal—she had no body difference, she had average health...

She has lived in this town following the move sometime when she was in elementary, when her father began pursing his political career. But she hadn't cared about that then. She hadn't cared about many things her father did, and not only because she hadn't understood them then at the time.

_A little girl stares at her shoes listening to the voices behind the closed door in front of her. Her father was to take her to the zoo today; the plushie animal thrown on her bed, forgotten, minutes ago. She had been sent to her room because she had reminded him. Maybe she should have waited until the other man talking to him had left the house...?_

She doesn't see her father as much anymore.

A year prior to her enrollment in high school, she experienced a life-changing event. Now, she rarely speaks in school; she rarely interacts; she rarely smiles—if she does, it's feigned—she can't. Those closest to her have also picked up on the noticeable change. Neither knew why it was.

She leaves home regularly.

In the year of 1982, she saw the world as a small place; a place where one would have to search far for something greater—this town is the only thing she's known and she wants to get away from it. She doesn't want to stay; she doesn't want to end up like her parents.

Her mother bakes too much and her father's office is constantly littered with papers and people in suits coming for visits. There have been too many faces coming and leaving through the door. Even when they had that house before moving, there were way too many she cared to count for of faces she'd gotten to know who'd then just leave so suddenly, some without goodbye.

_There are too many people, too many faces that come and go from their home at the wee hours of the day. Though she's used to it, she's grown tired of it_

Normally, Jeffery Garcia, and similar artists, would play throughout the house as her mother would sing and dance; sometimes her mother would be weaving a basket or just gone. There are times when the tribal furniture and the many antiques that decorated the house would become too much.

Rainy has never once been seen doing anything active in school—she has never been a part of a club, a sport, or band. Since the beginning of high school, she's been that one reading a book or staring out the window. Once in a while she could be seen talking to a small number of peers she's known.

She has always sat in the classroom reading books, alone. Sometimes it is a hardcover that looks difficult, other times it's a comic book with a cover design indicating that it will decrease your intellect just by reading it.

Suitably, she's smart and is at the top of the class. You'd definitely find the name _Rainy Capulet _within the top names in those who scored out of a test. So, also suitably to say, she found school profoundly boring.

Most times, Rainy can be found at the school's boys' basketball games talking to a few of the players if she wasn't with those called _friends_ or a book in her hands. She apparently knows some of the players. Other times, she's seen with one, or maybe two fellow peers at most, by her side. At the bus stop, she gets on/gets off and walks within a group of others from her neighbourhood.

One would suppose that she doesn't seem to have many friends at first glance, not even one person she's apparently close to or stays around, compared to the multitude of juveniles who are always in groups, laughing and joking.

Even though there are a number of others who feel the same as well

Wanda knows this feeling especially

Even though she's been going to school with many of the same faces that came from junior high, many of them haven't interacted at all. It was a moderately small town where one would expect everyone to know each other, but they didn't. Many chose not to. And so she stopped feeling.

_IF they had known each other..._

No one would ask why there were bags under eyes...

You see?

That had been the norm for Rainy now—just living in this small world, trying to survive in an anxious world, dreading the day she would become like her parents as every passing lipstick-smothered and cigarette-smoking adult spoke of. She'd say _that_ would be her excuse for reading so many books.

So those days she didn't come to school for weeks at a time went generally unnoticed except by those who took attendance.

_Only a few noticed, by those who's reputations were not favored by the popular of the school._

She was first noticed by a young brunette, a member of the school's wildlife society, who went by the name Wanda. It had been near the end of a boy basketball championship game, and Rainy was along the railing stairs out-looking the football field. She was alone and Wanda was just behind the fence far diagonally behind her readying on her way home. Rainy had been standing on a low rail and had been holding her wrist, a slight look of pain on her face, before glancing out at the field for a long time, opening her arms as if the wind could take her away. She also had a bandage on her upper shoulder. Wanda Maximoff didn't see Rainy much after that, but it was heard that the girl had been on the news with other classmates who had been passing by on their way to a diner as a celebration. They had been passing by in front of the camera that was reporting some crime, Wanda vaguely remembered.

Rainy had apparently became sick after that. Her reputation of being weak had followed that night.

_She has a tendency of running away..._

Rainy began interacting less in school from then on. She kept out of events, spoke less to her friends, and read more books. She rarely spoke to any and only answered a question unless asked in class. She was merely glanced at by others and it was rare to have an interaction with her; she had stopped smiling.

_She was once a very social girl,  
__her mother worries._

Her mother helped cause it.

However, that all changed on that day; it was more like a chain of events. A freak chain of events, actually. It all did a complete 360 on a rainy day at the school—it all began with a man in dreads and a top hat, and a boy with silver hair.

Rainy Capulet.  
Gender, Female.  
Light brown hair.  
Bright eyes.  
Blonde/light brown highlights at the bottom.  
Birthday, July 7  
Multiethnic American-born citizen

* * *

An arm pulled through her sleeve and the other followed effortlessly. As she buttons down her shirt, she glanced outside. It was raining, the thought flatly came to her. Her face unchanged looked to the umbrella resting near her bedroom door. She walked over and slid on her shoes after slugging her schoolbag onto her shoulder. She made sure to blow out the candle before shutting and locking her bedroom door behind her. It was an incense candle she had bought; buying them had become routine as well.

The house that belonged to her parents was a decent sized one as of now, but knew that when her father won the election he has been working hard towards—_if_ he won—they would surely be moving into a larger house. To her, it would just be more room to herself and give the guests more room to wonder unwelcome.

Rainy brisked down the hall. She might have even made it out the door without any unpleasantries...if only she had noticed the opened guest room. The last remains of smoke flowed into the hall from the open door—it was something so much the norm it went unnoticed at first. She tried picking up her pace even quicker but it was inevitable she found out, as soon as she rounded into the kitchen.

She locked eyes with her mother as soon as she stepped in, who was standing, leant against the stove. Now it would take longer to leave. If she missed the bus, she didn't want to ask for a ride to school. She definitely didn't want to ask for a ride...

Her mother's pink flowery nightgown flowed to her ankles. All of the buttons were open—to no surprise—to where Rainy itched to tell her that her chest's valley was exposed but knew the woman wouldn't care.

FLOWERS

HAIR IN A BUN

WHITE SMOKE

The woman's fingers rose to her lips, taking the bud from where it had been resting there. She smiled, "what were you doing up all night, hun? I could hear you all the way in the room." She puffed out a small cloud of white smoke and watched it exit out the small opened kitchen window. "You hungry?"

"I only got up once to use the bathroom," Rainy answered, hoping she wasn't frowning. She watched as her mother moved the turner to the pan of frying tofu. "And no thanks, I'm not hungry."

_"You're why I had trouble sleeping last night"_

Her mother took the blunt from between her lips. "You haven't been hungry a lot lately. Are you okay; you sick?" she asked, concerned.

Rainy shook her head.

"You sure?" her mother worried.

"I'm sure."

Mrs. Capulet shrugged. "Well I am," she smiled, turning back to her food. "You'll be missing out! More for me!"

Rainy's eyes narrowed. "Mom, you just have the munchies," she stated. She never called her mother by her first name no matter how much the woman insisted.

"Yup," her mother popped the 'p,' smiling.

Rainy turned, leaving. Typical.

NORMAL

As she made her way to the front door, she made a beeline to the living room to see a man standing and adjusting the buckle of his pants. This was just what she was looking for. It wouldn't be the first time that some of their "guests" decided to give themselves a tour or maybe take home a souvenir or two (which would usually be a small figurine). She was the only one who checked the day after and made sure.

Rainy's nose wrinkled as she took in this new stranger. He had a straggly brown beard that reached his mid-throat, matching hair, and the air (literally) of a stoner. He was one of the men a part of the group her mother was, no doubt. Washed-out shirt, matching ripped jeans, and a pair of dark shades hid his eyes and she wondered why he wore them inside.

He isn't her father

He didn't look surprise upon her entrance, so she figured he was innocent enough, having yet proved himself a thief.

Rainy gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter as he made eye contact with her.

"So yer the kid here?" he spoke. Though his tone was light-hearted and even kind, she still took a step backward. He sounded bored. The stranger waved, other hand on his hip. "Name's Bear. Sorry if we woke ya up last night. Ya know yer a lucky lil' lady for her to be yer ma...since daughters usually grow up to be like their ma's. 'Cause she's a real MILF, man," he smiled at the compliment, speaking it as if she should be privileged.

She didn't respond; she was disgusted.

"Yer Rain, right? Or somethin' like that. Donna talked a lot 'bout 'cha."

To her, he was making a fruitless attempt at conversing.

The man—Bear—then stepped closer. "Yer kinda cute, ya know..." he reached to take her chin but she stepped back out of reach. This time her nose did crinkle.

A frown took her face as she spat a response to him. And he straightened his stance, taken aback.

Luckily, her mother had called him then, announcing breakfast. Bear gave a last surprised look to the younger girl and left to the kitchen. Rainy glanced over for one moment to see him take a plate and hear him voice: "that kid of yours is_weird_."

And her mother groan for the umpteenth time, "I know, I know. I'll have to have a talk with her again.."

Rainy knew that they would thank each other and he would leave, that there was half a chance he would never come back again. She checked her pocket to make sure she had the key to her bedroom before walking out the door.

Only when she heard the bus pull up outside did her mother remember that she had forgotten to give her daughter her lunch.

**. . .**

SHOE

It is a known fact that Rainy was not a sociable person. Never since some time in middle school.

DOOR

This is evident in a variety of ways: the most prominent and supposedly obvious to some are the various books she brings or the way she carries herself. It's not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that makes you think that if you try to talk to her, there's a chance it won't go nicely. But this isn't entirely her fault—she just became like this, falling into this hole after years of trial and failure.

She tries to avoid any conversation whatsoever, unless with those she knows well, because conversation usually led to physical contact. She has started making a name for herself among the boys who have been the receiving victims of her tongue-lashes.

But then, there was also Sherry.

Sheryl Addams  
Gender, Female.  
Curly strawberry blonde.  
Hazel eyes.  
Various colored star-shaped hair clips.  
Birthday, September 28.  
Caucasian-American-born citizen.

HAND

Sherry Addams is a cheery girl who has a difficult time keeping secrets, and even more with knowing what to filter in a conversation and what shouldn't be told. Though Rainy has known the girl since moving, she had cared for the girl and both regarded each other as friends. But it was also she who helped push Rainy's now-reputation into existence.

Now, don't get it wrong—Rainy _does_ have feelings of friendship towards the girl. But this is also why whenever she does come, Rainy drifts to Michelle, another classmate whose signature is wearing a scarf at the base of her all-natural afro.

DOOR

Michelle waved from across the room as Rainy entered the class and she reminds herself to make sure she did the same. She forced a smile on her face, coming to meet her friend.

The door made a slight swooshing sound as she opened it.

Michelle White.  
Gender, Female.  
Tight curls, dark brown hair.  
Dark brown eyes.  
Always wears a scarf with hair.  
Birthday, April 2.  
African American-American-born citizen

The classroom was divided into obvious cliques, a cliché Rainy found not too long after graduation. There were the obvious kids who thought they were all that and a bag of chips, the athletics, those with minimal academic performance, and the rest just fell in-between. Such as was Michelle who was a part of the shrinking crowd of disco fans born years late.

When Rainy gets to her friend, Michelle is already chatting away.

As soon as she nears, Michelle pulls Rainy into a hug and tells her of a party approaching at a kid named Jonathan Montgomery's house, one of the hardcore rap fans of the school.

Rainy declined the offer; she always does. And Michelle frown in return, voicing just that.

"No. I don't do parties."

Michelle pouted. "That's what you always say."

"And that's what I always will," Rainy walked to set her back near her desk, Michelle following, "unless—by some miracle—some life-alternating event happens that changes my mind."

Michelle didn't know how much truth was spoken in those words. To her, Rainy was one of those who promoted parties but never attended.

Rainy had well enough reason to not go. There have been events where she was supposed to be excited, happy. But because of her condition, she stopped going, not wanting to be there when she couldn't feel it.

"Well one of these days, I'm gonna make you. You're really starting to be a buzzkill."

Rainy nodded. "Sure, whatever you say..."

BELL RING

_Sit down_

The school building was a large, two-story, pasty white with a single flagpole on the front lawn. Only gathered students and the red bricks that garnished the front left wing provided color. That, and the art wing, which was a pale yellow blotch ornamented with paint splatter, finger art, and random posters taped to the wall. Everything else was uniform, unchanging, plain.

UNIFORM

PLAIN

ORDER

SAME

BORING

Nothing's changed

The same immature parents

This school

with the same people she's heard of since middle school.

There was nothing interesting in this town that she could see.

The most people were interested in were politics

And those were adults.

Those around her were too focused on fashion, music, arts, drugs,

Things she couldn't get into but wished.

_Black __pause __scene_

The teacher walked in. Rainy watched silently, seeing the adult look windblown and a bit disheveled, arms full of worksheets and folders.

The teacher sighed and preceded calling for the class's attention. It took several tries until successful and even then there was still chatter. Patience was running very low.

A trio of boys up near the front of the class next to the window laughed aloud. This caught the adult's attention. Neither paid attention to the adult at the front of the room. One of them pulled something from his pocket but Rainy couldn't see from her desk shook as the adult slammed hands on the desk, fed up.

_"Next time I see that hat, Jason, it's mine."_

_"Thomas, enough! Turn around!"_

_"Peter, stop talking!"_

The boy quickly swiped the baseball cap off, exposing a brown mess. The three turned forward, emitting sounds of stifled laughter. It wasn't the first time they were scolded—not by a long shot. It was these three who the teacher yelled at most.

A girl in a pink miniskirt rolled her eyes. One of the boys winked at her and made a silent kiss her way. She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, unimpressed.

The teacher sighed once the class calmed.

"Alright class!" The teacher called for attention and announced that a lab was to be performed today for the current lesson.

The trio of boys smirked at each other. Michelle looked over to Rainy, and she knew what Michelle wanted—she and Rainy were to choose each other as partners again. Similar glances and silent affirmations were being exchanged across the room.

The teacher smirked. Chalk dusted hands were placed on hips in authoritative manner. "And this time, _I'll _be choosing who you work with."

The collection of angered faces was amusing.

"And you better not slack because it will count as much as an independent test grade." There were a few slackers in the class and the teacher hoped to get rid of that.

A collection of groans followed.

Michelle crossed her fingers under her chin, muttering pleas to herself, when the teacher picked up the clipboard and began randomly reading off names. Rainy watched her friend with a straight face. It wasn't long before her name was read:

"Liam Osborn...Michelle White."

Michelle's jaw dropped open, her bangles making low gangling noises as her hands fell.

Then it was Rainy's turn. She knew because the way the teacher's eyes drifted over to her. Her emotionless face didn't change. The teacher's finger slid over to her name and then called out the first name her eyes fell upon next that hadn't been called.

"Rainy Capulet and...Pietro Maximoff."

_There was an almost snicker that wanted to sound in the air._

_If there had been for sure, she didn't notice it_

Michelle sucked in a breath. Rainy's face didn't change—she had no clue who that was. She looked over to Michelle who had a somewhat pained look on her face.

She didn't notice it at first, but when Rainy looked around, she stared back at a boy who had been looking over his shoulder, watching her.

_He already had premature grey hair._

As she watched him, she realized that she had seen him before. She thought to herself: It was around the beginning of the year. She had been sitting with Michelle and the others, dully listening to the conversation at hand. She had gotten up to grab something from her bag—she shouldn't remember what—when she had looked to the classroom door. She couldn't remember exactly the reason for that either, except that he had been in the process of removing his headphones when she had seen him. And that he was staring at her—at least she suspected it. She knew he must have just walked in.

He had just stared at her

Like he was transfixed on something, she would have said

But that would have been too bigoted of her to presume, she supposed

She had stared back, a glare so intense.

She had been about to lash out a question

_"What are you staring at?"_

It would have came out harsher than intended

She turned her back instead.

She never noticed him before after that, never made the effort to. She just barely kept herself steady with Michelle, Sherry, and the few others she stuck to. He was just always that person in your class you partially knew was there but for unknown reasons, never spoke to.

The same person

She made a faint huffed sound.

_So that is Pietro..._

Her face didn't change. She turned forward back to the teacher.

Nothing has ever changes here that she saw.

The same obnoxious adults,

The same students from middle school.

People only care about politics, maintaining mutants, fashion, music, arts, and drugs.

It was just ordinary.

.

* * *

_**(Again, should the teacher be male or female ?) The next chapter will be coming soon. I just had another math test last thursday so I had to try to not post until afterwards. The next will have more Peter (if you all would like) and less drag**_

_**Replys:**_

_**to Miccacode: **I didn't know that my spelling might have bothered some, I apologize. I've gotten rid of it but tell me if I missed anything. I know I tend to misspell according to the mainstream—like, I tend to spell icecream as one word and neighbourhood instead of the American way (even though I'm born and raised American). Spelling "thru" and these other words are just the way I grew up spelling it, so it just stuck._

_**to Guest 1: (I'm sorry I don't know who's who with the many reviews just signed GUEST) **Thank you for reading! Really, I am! I'll try to update more frequently. But no, like I said in the A/N at the beginning, last "chapter" was supposed to come directly after the very first (I call it the trial chapter). This one is set MONTHS before the others. And I did win the battle! With a 92! (That's great for me because I am practically illiterate in math 'XD )_

_**to lisamariem: **I'm honestly not sure if I should SAY where the story is going just yet. (Wouldn't that ruin it, especially for the readers? Because I already have a sort of sequel planned, though that all depends if this one goes well, of course.) Well, unless I'm speaking to a Co-writer. So I'm not sure if can answer your question. And yes, I do plan to have the wonderful Professor X appear; I can't say for sure about Magneto though just yet of exactly how, though I do hope. Why? (below answers it)  
_

_**to all readers / reviewers:** I forgot to mention, this story can run on reader's choice. As in, if there's something you want to see in here—a scene, an event, a ship (if I can do it), I'll see if I can work it's way into here. Because I want writing this to bring enjoyment to myself as well as readers. :)_

_**Speak now or forever hold your peace.**_


	5. Chapter 2: Rainy Reptile II

_**F-ck it! I'm uploading this anyway since I'm finish writing so beware spelling and errors. I'll fix it in time, just wanted this out before I went back to study. Fwi, these two chapters were originally planned to be one chapter but I split them because they obviously became too long. Now, I have finals this wednesday so I don't think I'll be able to upload until after then. Also I had ANOTHER test this passed thursday (I know; good grief!) so that's why I didn't update, so it wasn't my fault don't hate me.**_

* * *

Michelle sucked in a sharp breath, her face all but saying "oooh," and "sucks for you."

"Come pick up a directions sheet each of you before going to the stations. If you don't, whoever blows up the school will be at blame, shamed all over the news,_and_ I will fail you," Mr. Trevelyan announced.

Pietro's hand shot up and responded without waiting to be called upon. "But isn't that inevitable, teach? The fail part of course. Plus who wouldn't want to have a shot to on tv am I right?" He earned a few snickers at the remark.

"Enough, smart-alic," _Teach_ frowned, then to the class, "Now, everyone, get to work!" Then he warned: "when you get to the part about the acid, call me. One of them is diluted only a little." The man then sighed as he collapsed in his chair before reaching for last week's tests to pass out.

Papers rustled and chairs screeched across the floor. Those who didn't agree grumbled; the students who didn't mind met up with their with no problem.

Rainy stood with Michelle, both still in conversation. They blended into the small dispersion of students quickly.

The three boys frowned, each picking at each other's assigned lab partners.

"I can't believe I'm stuck with Finkleton!" one whined. "You lucky bastard. You get Clarice; I get a snot-nosed geek."

The other snickered. "Hella yeah," Thomas cheered.

"With you, you can basically just copy notes and not do anything," the third added, a little jealous.

"Of course you're one to talk, Pete; you got it the worst: Miss Frigid. Ha! Hope she doesn't bite your head off," Jason snickered.

Peter sneered.

"You're goin' down bro," Thomas laughed. "_And_ in science class!? Good luck!"

Science wasn't his strongest subject..

"Boys!"

All three turned to the teacher who was frowning with folded arms.

"This isn't a contest. Either get to the lab stations or the deans'. Your choice."

Jason's eyes widened.

Thomas snickered once more, being the first to stand. "Looks like your lady's already leaving you. Best go on," he joked to Peter.

Peter stood. He watched Rainy walking off with Michelle.

"My nerd seems to have already begun our work as well. I'd better go _help_ him," Thomas spoke sarcastically, knowing the teacher was listening and couldn't say "I'd better go copy the answers."

Jason muttered under his breath, grabbing a direction sheet. Clarice, his partner, was indeed beautiful but she was also one of those whose family are of upper middle class. She was spoiled and her attitude didn't correspond with her looks. So, unlike Thomas, Jason wasn't one to go straight for looks.

At the tables, Michelle made sure to take a seat at a table next to her friend.

"Dude, I am so sorry. It must suck," Michelle spoke. She motioned for Liam Osborn across the area, waving her hand fro him to meet her. He was already at another table but she refused to move, and after moments of the two staring at each other, both stubborn, he finally stood to move.

"What does?"

"Being stuck with one of _them_." She squinted. "They're so weird," she added.

Rainy didn't ask further seeing Michelle's partner approach and her growing quiet. Rainy turned without another thought and begun taking out the equipment from in the cabinet under desk.

_"I just feel kinda bad for you. I hear he's a bit of a slacker."_

Liam sat down across from Michelle and she went quiet. A look of unimpressed displayed across her face. Liam was no better—it was known that he was very bossy and arrogant, Michelle knowing from being stuck with him all year and last.

Rainy read over her paper. It felt like minutes until she heard the stool screech near her. "Did you get the directions?" she spoke without looking up. There was a moment of silence until the sound of footsteps left and returned with the flutter of paper on the tabletop.

STOOL

SCREEECH

_"Hey"_

Rainy didn't turn around. "The first step says to measure hydrochloric acid and acetic acid into two separate flasks and get the combined weight of each."

She still didn't look up. She was concentrated on getting this done as soon as possible and wasn't going to waste her time waiting on someone who couldn't follow directions or slacked. She didn't care if she was to get scolded for not "working as partners.

She steadied doing her part of the work. As she began setting up the Bunsen burner, she saw him lean close to her.

"Don't touch me," she spoke immediately, the test tube holders in her hand suddenly pointing his way. She still hadn't looked over to him.

There was a brief pause before he spoke: "Daaang, I was just going to ask you a question."

"Then you can ask me from there," she spoke coolly.

Peter resisted the urge to pout just in the slightest. He watched her measure and weigh different liquids and pour metal scraps into one flask. He began fidgeting with the striker. "So what's the first step?"

She measured a pale yellowish liquid in a small beaker—acetic acid with dye—before pointing at his abandoned paper on the dark tabletop. Well, there went that attempt at conversation...

Peter looked over the printed page, seeming to skim the words quickly. "What the hell is..._endothermic reaction_?"

"Wow, you really don't know anything, do you?"

_Ouch._

"It was covered almost in the entire class time yesterday. The only way one would not know is if they weren't here, or sleep. ...But then that would qualify them as a slacker. ...I've been told that there were a few major slackers in this class, specifically those wearing blue sweaters and orange stripes. Would you be clumped together in that group; are you a slacker, Pe...Pedro..?"

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a blue sweater...

Pietro stared at her. There was no way he had seen such an answer coming. "Ruuuude."

She looked at him, brows raised in attention.

"And here I was trying to start a friendly conversation. You know, not a lot of people think being near you isn't quite_healthy_ either, and I can start to see how. And here I was trying to be nice, but nope. And for your information, I can't help it that science isn't my strongest point." He cringed a little at that admission.

The speed he spoke caught her off guard for a moment.

Her face fell from her previous aware to a more plain. "Hm." She poured a white powder into a flaccid balloon. "Well, forgive me, Pedro. I'm not used to other people. Especially those who might look sketchy or possibly mistaken for being older than they really are...and unless they've possibly flunked a few times."

"Older than they—-_really_?!" He didn't know how to take that.

"That's what I said. Now you can bring that H-C-L over here, will you?"

"Do you always go around biting people's heads off like this? You know that'd be a good name for you—head-biter. Or mood-killer. Or Miss Mean. How 'bout Ice Queen." His speech was beginning to speed up again.

"I thought dogs had a heightened sense of hearing," she muttered to herself, then spoke louder, "if you don't want to fail this assignment—because I won't, I assure you—hand me the hydrochloric acid so I can do this next part. It's in that large beaker next to the water filter over there." She reached out her hand and flexed her fingers, indicating for him to do so. When he turned to obey, she added with a smirk under her breath, "that's a big boy."

"What are you my mom?" He purposely held the beaker just out of reach from her hand. His eyes narrowed at her but it wasn't from anger, but more from calculating. He returned with a small beaker filled halfway with the clear chemical. "_'Big boy,'_" he scoffed upon his return, "I'm probably older than you."

"Funny. Now give it here."

"Give what here?"

Now she was glaring at him, growing aggravated. She had little patience today; she just wanted to get through without any nonsense. "You know if you keep acting like that, people might actually believe you aren't so bright."

_Was she ASKING for a fight!?_

"Plus, keep playing with that and you'll get in trouble for the both of us. That stuff is toxic so I can't say if Mr. Trevelyan will kick you out for playing, but it can burn." Their teacher had a low tolerance for misplay in labs. I mean, there are people here with worse attitudes than yours and who are perhaps even more careless...so I suppose _that_ isn't something to be too worried about..."

Why did it seem like she was singling him out?!

"I wish my mother could hear that—that there are people with worse attitudes than me. I don't think she'd believe it. I'm fairly certain that she's under the impression that I'm the worst."

She watched him look in the direction of one of the boys he spoke to. "Hm, interesting," she lied. When she was sure he wasn't paying attention, she snatched the small beaker from him. A little of it spilled on her

"You know, if you can spare the attitude, you'll save the both of us."

She barked a laugh. It held no feeling. "Oh, Pedro," her tone suddenly dropped several octavals, "...if you only knew."

His brows knitted together. He itched to ask, to blurt out "knew what," but after their brief "introduction" he second thought about just _how_ to interact with this girl. He'd spoken to her only once before in a brief _hello_ and has only seen her from afar, but never had he expected to be hit with such verbal slashes. His mind ran, looking for a decent response.

"Like I said before, I'm just not used to such interaction," she told, partially lying. She didn't look away from the container on the Bunsen burner in front of her. "Actually, I lied. I'm just not having a good day." The way she spoke was calm, as if she wasn't worried, wasn't frustrated or angered.

Pietro watched silently as she mixed together two chemicals. She measured something here and added some of the concoction to a flask with metal fragments there before setting it on the burner.

SILENT OBSERVATION

"It's really uncomfortable being stared at, you know. There's a window across the room that has been lonely for attention," she directed.

Here we go...

"Ok you...you...Ray..._whatever your name is!_ What's with this flaying me like a fish much? Do you have any idea what you're saying anyway—well of course you do—but man, it isn't quite nice you know. It bruises. You sound like a debater, are you a debater? Because I thought about being on the debate team but thought against it. You must know some of those on the team then, it you're one of them, aren't 'cha? Do you ever talk to them this way? I bet you must to those you go up against with the way you're talking. Bet you make them fell bad, real bad. Hey, have you made any of them cry? Because I don't doubt you could. You can easily drive someone away with the way you are right now—that's what others have said about you too, but I try not to judge too much by looks alone, ya know. But that quickly went out the window now, with you kinda rude too. I bet if your mom heard you talking like this she wouldn't be so proud. Really, are you not ashamed of yourself? Has anyone ever told you that?"

He talked _a lot _but he had guts. Not many of those who came up to her lasted this long, and the boys in particular she's noticed. Though to be fair those had been the ones who hung around the girls who always got pricey mani-pedis and wore expensive accessories.

Though Rainy heard Peter's words and knew they meant something, little of it registered to her. "Why would I be ashamed of myself? It acquires just what I want: for time alone and not be crowded by so many people constantly. What about you? You tend to have made a hobby of irritating the teacher."

Pietro grinned a little. "It's my specialty," he joked. "Actually, one of them."

She paused, watching the reaction with the metal pieces in one container in front of them.

"You must be special then because not many can get Mr. Trevelyan's feathers ruffled," she complemented. She didn't smile but there was still some meaning behind her words and not all sarcasm.

His grin grew. "Special? Well, something like that." He saw her looking to her sides for something and he handed her the stirring rod she searched for.

He watched her tie a second limp balloon to the mouth of the flask and realizes she had basically done the entire assignment herself. They saw the balloon beginning to expand, and therefore finishing the assignment.

"But really, do I look sketchy?"

"No, not you. I was just stating that as an example."

Peter looked around, seeing they were the first to finish. She voiced this as well.

She pushed the balloon and flask over to him and began putting away the materials, rinsing the container in the sink; he moved over so she could put them away in the cabinet in front of him. Peter reached to the middle of the table for the hydrochloric acid to hand to her, but as he turned, he didn't see her turning and the glass bumped into her arm.

He apologized but she didn't take notice, just glancing at him as she went to put away the unused metal fragments. It wasn't until she returned that he realized that her arm had been splashed in their collision and the skin on her lower arm was turning red.

Peter's eyes widened.

That stuff was toxic, he remembered her saying. It was an _acid_ after all.

"Hey, _hey_," he called. He gestured to her arm. "Your arm—-it—-I—-doesn't it hurt!?" He had trouble forming a way to ask so just settled on that question.

Rainy followed his gaze to her arm. Peter noticed that her calm look didn't change as she turned away. He didn't miss that she tried to hide swiping the liquid off. Only when she looked back at him could he tell she was questioning him and skeptical.

He saw

Her brows knitted closer together. "Now raise your hand for the teacher to come over since we're finished," she ordered, voice still calm. She then stood and left the classroom.

Bumps were starting to form on the infected area. And despite how much she didn't like it, she knew he must have seen.

_There is talk going around that Rainy Capulet is cold-blooded, and as a joke, has been compare to lizards and reptiles_

_Along with her offish personality._

_Pietro could see where it came from_

* * *

**_So, I realize that I'll have to do some re-planning with this story. In the beginning, I was going to go a little for a more X-Men: Evolution approach but after re-watching the first 3 X-Men movies, I came across details that majorly countered those made later. For example: how could Charles walk and being close to Erik in the beginning of X3 when they recruited a 10-something-year old Jean Grey if he was shot in First Class and the two had apparently separated (not to mention his old age already)? The Scott (Cyclops) and Alex (Havoc) dilemma—how can Alex be in First Class if he is Scott's YOUNGER BROTHER, given, shouldn't it have been Scott (or someone else) instead in FC? So that also means that Jean's age should be reconsidered when Charles recruited her. And not to mention the Mystique/Trask issue—if she was captured all those years ago RIGHT AFTER killing Trask, HOW could she have been in the other X-movies!? Plus calculating Nightcrawler's age given Azazel was killed years before Days of Future Past took place since Erik already knew about it after leaving the Pentagon (and those who know their connection ;) ), so that also might change the dates on X1-3. Just some food for thought that I need to straighten out (and having difficulty doing so)._**

**_So after writing this chapter and when I was reading those reviews, we were re-watching season 3 of Teen Wolf. And you know that teacher who just hated on Stiles and Scott, who was killed by the Darach? Yeah, he came to mind about the teacher-thing in here (I think his name is...[googles it] Adam Fristoe, so he can be the face claim for Mr. Trevelyan. ...I just realized both are chemistry teachers...ironic..._**

**_Anyway, replies now because I need to get back to study:_**

**_to Raven: (by the way, nice name choice ;D ) _**_I don't know whether you are just being nice or just so encouraging. Really, thank you so much! You are too nice. Gave me THAT much more confidence for my tests :) And thank you so much because I was so worried that last chapter was the beginning of the quality of this to decrease. As for each __chapter so far... *go worries in a corner.*_

**_to SimplyKelly: _**_patience, patience my friend ;D Don't jump the broom so soon. To tell you the truth, I'm wanting to try some different elements in the story I haven't been able to touch on my other stories, and not only a different writing style. After all, this is the broad universe of Marvel, and this focused on in particular the world of X-Men where mutants haven't been particularly accepted yet and there is much controversy about them with normal humans..._


	6. Chapter 3: Chagrin

_**A/N: Wow this chapter is about 5 days overdue! Completely my bad! In my defense (if it helps) it's been a more hectic passed several days than usual: I just finished my current classes (and passed, yay!), then there was a misunderstanding with another author that needed straightening out (which went surprisingly well by the way). The next day there was an attempt of ridiculing me (and perhaps belittling me?) by an insecure, ratchet, insignificant I had went to middle school with and had the unfortunity of running into on campus; with little did he know that making me feel bad is very hard to do, and I'm relieved I didn't allow myself to grow angry at his lame attempts (anger issues are evident on both sides of my family). I then had to deal with a little piece of shit on FF who was **__**selfish,**__** ignorant**__** and rude because I wasn't familiar with the show he wanted me to write a fic request for. So, you can see why I was so stressed more than normal, completely throwing me off?**_

_**My faith in humanity has lost remarkably many points in these remarkably few days.**_

_**It felt like when I finally got over one pain in the butt, another arose, so it took me some time until I could feel emotionally fit to look over this and to continue writing. Please forgive me. I needed some time to sleep it off, exercise it away, and go thru my chocolate and American Horror Story therapy that always helps tremendously (I just watch the show while overloading on sugar and food). I just typed this out mainly to make myself feel better and to keep you all informed, so I don't expect nor am I requesting comments regarding this.**_

_**Now...**_

_**A/N 2: I could say that this focuses more on the Maximoff twins on this one. (And in **_**_advance, if I do end up offending anyone, I apologize.)_**

* * *

Rainy ran to the nearest bathroom only after making sure the classroom door shut quietly behind her. After all, she didn't need any teacher coming after her and questioning what happened, didn't need anyone to. Because they would then find out what was wrong.

No one is supposed to find out

She ran to the sink, turned the water up high and began scrubbing at her arm. She tried to remember what Mr. Trevelyan had said, what it had read in the hazardous IF THIS EVER HAPPENED... label.

_If hydrochloric acid comes in contact with eyes or skin, rinse with..._

She couldn't remember.

Rainy grunted to herself and continued to scrub with school liquid soap. How could she had been so careless?, she scolded herself. She had been doing so well until now and couldn't believe she just slipped up so easily. How could she have been so stupid? Her brows furrowed; she wanted to kick herself.

And in front of HIM of all people.

No one was supposed to know. She was to fix it all on her own...however she was to do that...

That guy, her lab partner—he would no doubt go around blabbering it to the entire school. At least, that's what she thought he would do.

She was already being called weak;  
She's had enough of it.  
She wasn't weak, she wanted to prove.

She wasn't weak...

But no one was ever supposed to have seen that mess-up.  
More so, she shouldn't have slipped up.  
No one is supposed to see  
No one was supposed to know

She'd have to do something about that Pedro Maximoff...

.

* * *

Sometime during the following months, Mr. Trevelyan, the chemistry teacher, was transferred to teach a higher class at the town's eastern high school.

There were students who rejoiced at the news—those were the ones who hadn't held the best grades due to poor performance. The others held mild feelings about it, knowing that there was a chance that they'd have him as a teacher again, whether he was a favorite or not. Rainy was one of those students.

Since that day in the classroom, she began delving deeper into herself. She began refusing for new people grow close to her.

She kept those she knew as a tight group, letting no one new in

Rainy didn't speak to Pietro again after that day. She couldn't even if she desired. It had been nearing the end of the school year anyhow, and that Pietro disappeared for that following week.

Now, almost year later, she still lives in the same house as before. Rainy would still wake up on a school day, blow out her incense candle, and catch the bus for school. She would usually see her parents on her way out now, whether it was one or both: Her father would normally be reading the paper about stocks or his progress in the election—yes, by now, he had recently enrolled in the run to become Bayville's next major; her mother would be doing...whatever she would be doing at the moment, if she wasn't getting high or having a "next morning" event with another of those apart of the same group as she.

You could say that Rainy's life has remained quite the same

It is now a new year. It was new beginnings.

It was no longer the beginning of the year, however.  
Well, it still felt like it to some...

She still met up with Michelle White and would see Sherry Addams when the strawberry blonde wasn't with her _bubblegum and smiles_ friends; Rainy still spoke to the others she knew.

Things were normal.

PLAIN

HALLWAY

A brunette grumbled to herself, twirling the combination lock, very frustrated. This has been the fifth time she's tried opening this darn contraption and she knew her patience was on ice. She paused, hoping a few deep breaths would calm herself. But still, as she tried once more and the lock not opening, she threw her fist down to her side and stamped a foot. And the lockers nearest her flew open.

Conversation in the hall paused for that moment and a few students nearby looked around, caught off guard.

Wanda froze, also surprised and had jumped herself.

She quickly gathered her books and notebooks needed from her now-open locker and shuffled to class, cheeks a tinge pink.

It was early morning. Too early, if you were to ask her. But being a student in school, she didn't have much choice. First class would begin soon, she knew.

When Wanda found her seat, she took a look around the room. A few students were already inside and the rest were beginning to file in as the morning bell neared. But still, as she watched each pass, she didn't catch sight of a familiar head of hair she looked for—for her brother. If he were to be late again, that would be five in a row and would grant him a seat in afterschool punishment.

A part of her worried about him—the sister side—while the other said that it was all his own doing and not her problem—the female side. She knew if things got the worst, he'd arrive just as the bell would ring.

Her suspicions weren't far from the truth.

**— **

Pietro—Peter to those who knew him—Maximoff, stood at the open door to his home, bookbag slugged over his shoulder and a grin on his face. He glanced at his watch before focusing ahead, going over the mental map of his journey to his destination. He still had two minutes left according to the time. He looked left, down the road, and to the right. Certain there was no one watching, he placed hands on the goggles on his forehead, bringing them into position.

_ "Showtime"_

A second later, he was gone, speeding down the road faster than any normal eye could see. He was thankful he had paid attention so many times on the drive back home.

Having overslept and Wanda not coming downstairs to wake him, he was now late. But then again, he was _never_ "_late_."

In HIS book

Peter smiled to himself seeing the world pass by in ever-slow motion. He would make it to school in five minutes...of five in _his_ time.

_ Bell ring_

Wanda glanced once more at the open classroom door.

Nope. No one. He still wasn't here.

She rolled her eyes. _'Of course.' _She sat back in her chair, pulling the red hood further over her head.

The teacher who was teaching today was a woman in a red dress and crinkled brows—a substitute. The woman leaned against the desk at the front of the room, rapping her nails on the wood. She looked over the lesson plan left by the original teacher once more before she begun the lesson for the day.

A small stack of papers rested on the desk—homework to be turned in.

One more minute to be on time

As if on cue at the bell ring, Wanda caught a familiar sheen of silver zip inside out the corner of her eye. She groaned to herself watching her brother slide into the room at the last second, hurrying inside with a biscuit in his mouth and already sliding his bag off his arm. He rummaged inside before pulling out three slightly crumpled worksheets. He mumbled something incoherent to the substitute through the biscuit sandwich in his mouth, holding the papers outstretched to the older woman.

The substitute slowly took them from him. A brow rose as she took in his demeanor, all wrinkled shirt, unpressed jeans and wild grey hair—it was her first time teaching this class. Unknowing to him, she wasn't one for tardiness. The woman ordered for him to take the seat, coincidently, behind his sister.

Wanda waited until he collapsed in the chair behind to hiss, "where were you?"

He folded his arms and leaned forward. He waited until he was sure the teacher's back was turned before answering. "What do you think? Oh by the way thanks for waking me up this morning Wanda." His speech had quickened slightly in the past year as his abilities came out full-forced.

Wanda scoffed and glanced back at him in silence for a moment. The biscuit sandwich hung from his mouth. She wasn't impressed and rolled her eyes. The look she gave was a question on the origin of the breakfast sandwich.

"I got hungry on the way. Chill."

The teacher turned to the class then. The woman fidgeted with her brown ponytail on her shoulder, going on about something that had to do with the government's history.

"Is that from Lucille's?" Wanda asked. She was once more focused on the teacher and scribbling down notes on a pad of paper.

Feeling a hot foil bundle nudge her side was her answer. "Bacon and cheese."

Wanda smiled to herself, hiding the sandwich in her lap and waiting until the substitute had her back turned again before eating.

**. . .  
. . .**

The Maximoff twins—Peter, Wanda—neither were considered significant throughout the school. Not like the popular students or those who excelled in most, if not all, classes. Many times, the two were seen as just another face in the crowd and were only pointed out by those who knew them, whether good or bad.

Well, that was partially true. Especially for Wanda.

Her brother on the other hand...

Kids can be so cruel

...It was a different story.

It wasn't intentional, having singled Peter out from so many others. Really, Thomas hadn't wanted it to happen. But for some, once there has been the taste of the good life, it may be near impossible for them to come back down.

It had been one day in school...

_It had been caused by Clarice_

Clarice Wilhelm had tempted Thomas, offered him a chance to join their crowd—the "cool kids." She had been backed up with some of the most well-known names on campus when she came to confront him when he had been alone. He had refused immediately in the beginning, but still, many men fall prey to sirens.

She had told him that she had taken a liking to him that day after the lab assignment that year,  
cooing that he had looked "so smart"

_Sucking up_

All he had to do was tell of an incident of the silver-haired boy. That was all, and then the privileges would come falling, rapidly. Parties, popularity, friends, awards of "the best smile" or another, possible position on a sports team.

_All Thomas had to do was humiliate him_

LAUGH

POINT

TAUNT

CROWD

In front of more than "a few."

_Tables—life—can change in one instant_

All it took was one day.

Thomas's words had been twisted into what he hadn't intended, making him seem worse. He hadn't even said anything wrong, but left his words ineffective. It were the other boys around him who had drove the nail in deep, warping Thomas' words as he stood horrified.

Thomas was still accepted.

He had tried telling that to the grey-haired boy, but Peter hadn't listened

_He set his hat to fire that day_

A hat he had gotten with Peter when the two had snuck into a local baseball game

The minute the bell rang, the students hurried out of the classroom like water pouring from a bottle, the substitute still calling the remainder of the lesson after them.

Wanda blended in with the crowd quite effortlessly. Peter waited until most filed out until standing from his seat.

HEADPHONES

Students crowded the hall in rush to get to their next class or the lunch room, depending on their grade.

When Peter shrugged the door open, his eyes caught those of a black haired boy across the hall, who was about his age and inside a semicircle of others. The boy was smiling, laughed.

Peter was not.

The boy seemed to lock eyes the moment Peter looked up. He raised his chin as if in a slight greeting that no one else was to pick up.

Peter shrugged on his headphones and kept walking, not even giving acknowledgement he saw or another glance in Jason's direction with those other Honor Roll students.

CAFETERIA

"I don't know how humans manage to eat this stuff," a brunette stuck his tongue out in disgust, watching the mystery mush fall from his spoon to his tray.

"Dude, you're human too. And it looks more like mashed potatoes," the girl beside him leaned in close to her own tray of lunch food, eyeing the small white mountain. It certainly looked like mashed potatoes could be it except for the smell it gave off—it didn't smell like any potatoes she knew. She sat up. "Hey Peter, could you go get us some real food? Like, McDonald's or something?"

She was nudged by the one at her side that the boy across the table hadn't heard. She looked up and saw Peter sat with his arms folded under him, tray also untouched, head turned behind him.

"Hey, Pete!" the redhead, Miesha, called again.

This time he did turn to her attention, large eyed and looking surprised.

"Did you hear a single word I said?"

He hadn't.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, looking around and proceeding to stand until Peter motioned for her to sit back down.

He hushed her. He didn't want Thomas and the others to catch wind of him in here. The last he knew, they were out on the field but he wore a hood just in case.

"Whatcha so focused on then?" the other boy asked, seated next to the redhead. His name was Ronny Di Gallo. "The only things that you get so focused on is AC/DC and porno," he chuckled.

Peter turned back around. "Har har."

Reynold "Ronny" Di Gallo  
Gender, Male  
Buzzcut, dark hair  
Dark brown eyes  
Birthday, October 31  
Italian-American American-born citizen  
Mutation, Camouflage

"Do any of you know someone with the name Capulet?"

"Why?" Ronny asked.

At the same time, Miesha spoke: "is that who you were looking for?"

"Just answer the question already."

Both thought for a moment.

The three were the only at the table in the _very_ full cafeteria. The three had chosen not to sit with anyone else, and others chose not to sit with them.

They were the school's "weirdoes"

or freaks.

At least a few of those with that title

No one knew they were mutants  
Except each other

It didn't stop the name-calling, however

"Someone in my gym class has that name," Miesha answered. "I think her name is Blue Rain or something like that."

Ronny nodded. "The Juliet-girl," he added, a pun the girl had acquired when the class had been assigned to take part in a reading of _Romeo and Juliet_.

"That's it!" Peter snapped his fingers. "You know her?"

Miesha scrunched her face. "No. Why would I talk to her? What do you want with her?"

Miesha Babinski  
Gender, Female  
Long orange red hair  
Light brown-golden eyes  
One long braid the length to her thighs, bangs  
Birthday, April 5  
Biracial American-born citizen  
Mutation, Organic Constructs—Comakinetic

Peter opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Ronny: "that's her right there isn't it?" He pointed behind Peter.

Tables down was a girl with light brown hair and olive skin seated next to a tall boy in a jersey. The table seemed to be engaged and abuzz with conversation. The tall boy let out a loud laugh.

But Peter had turned around at the wrong time then. And Ronny lowered his finger, locking eyes with the different tall young man who had been searching the room the same when Peter had.

Ronny grew nervous. Peter's eyes widened.

Thomas smirked from the middle of the cafeteria. He said something to those near him before standing, several others following.

Don't make eye contact, he's temperamental

Peter turned back around. Ronny and Miesha watched Thomas walk their way.

"Well well, fellas. Look who we found."

Peter could hear Thomas' voice coming up behind him.

"Hey, fruitcake," he called.

Peter stirred the potatoes on his tray, ignoring him. "Go away, Thomas. I'm busy if you haven't noticed, go find someone else to boast to, you already have your ringleaders with you."

"...You didn't seem like you were too busy then. And if I wanted anything to do with ya, I would have just used your hair and make a spotlight reflect on the wall. Your head's so big it just might work." Thomas smirked.

Peter's hands clenched.

"Nah, just kidding," he lied. "Brett says that he had a piece of jewel that went missing. ...You like bling, don't you Peters, silver-dollop," Thomas mocked.

"Go away Thomas, I don't know what you're talkin' about." Peter didn't turn around. "And if Brett would learn to keep track of his things for once then maybe he would have also noticed how much he sucks on the team and that that chick he was with has been "talking" to some of those nerds on the math team."

Thomas' nose flared, but the anger dispersed a moment later. He smiled bitterly. "Of course you'd know all that, wouldn't ya? You spying on us now, freak? Now you've turned into some kind of creeper?" he urked.

Those at his side snickered.

"What? Next thing I know, you'll be tryna peek on me in my showers, huh?"

Peter's head jerked forward. The hot rage inside him escalated feeling the taller's hand whack the back of his head. Peter caught himself just before his face would be decorated with the food on his tray.

The area around them grew quiet when Peter stood from the chair rapidly, it screeching across the tile loudly. Peter's hood had fallen off from the force and speed.

"C'mon, Maximoff," Thomas coaxed.

Miesha spoke up from the table: "you heard him; get outta—-"

"Shut up, weirdo!" The taller spat.

Peter now glared back at the boy in a way one would have never thought he could possess for his ex-best friend. He was leaning from one foot to the other. "Whatcha gonna do punch me?" Peter grinned stiffly.

The taller turned to the one under the hood. "Hand it over, Maximoff," Thomas spoke.

"Chill out dickwad. Hand what over, I told you I don't have i—-"

Thomas lashed out at him, bundling the shorter's dark jacket in his fists.

"Hand it over, freak." Thomas had hit a somewhat growth spurt since the last he and Peter talked, and he now stood inches taller than the young mutant. "A class pin. It's a diamond class pin."

Peter's brows shot up then.

By now, several more tables had hushed to listen to the dispute.

"Oh you must mean that little old fashion-looking broach-thing 'bout this big?" He held his fingers apart, indicating a small size. "What did his grammy give it to him," he mocked. His grey brows creased then as if he was just coming up with the thought. Or it was just his true expression for the moment. "Yeah I saw Milton with it a day ago I _think_...taking it to the pawn shop up the street from the skate park. It was nice too, just upset that I didn't get to it first," he mocked.

Thomas was silent. Those flanking him didn't jump in. Peter smiled wider, sarcastically, as if saying "see, stupid?"

The cafeteria was growing silent.

Thomas' hands loosened, but he still give death glares to the grey-haired trickster.

Down the hall, a man's voice—a teacher—was coming towards the lunchroom. He was running, having been told a fight was breaking out.

Thomas glared down at the former before Peter's world exploded into stars. A loud crack sounded in the room of Thomas' forehead connecting to Peter's as several administrators came in the lunchroom.

Neither of the adults could figure out who started the fight that day, and so, both boys were punished—one with a cracked ego, the other with a cracked nose.

* * *

**_I originally made the bully confrontation a lot nastier than this version, but I had to remember that weren't THAT old yet for this chapter to be throwing such words around. So I had to ease it up for this chapter until later._**

**_I feel like there was too much OOC-ness in this chapter, which I'm not proud of and apologize for. Now that I think about it, it's probably because it had hit a bit close to home for me, I myself having been bullied until it stopped in high school. Anyways, besides that, I tried to consider the characters younger here, particularly younger than when DoFP takes place as it hasn't happened just yet in the story but will soon. But this chapter was unnecessarily tough to write... I'm not expecting any reviews for this so._**

**_*PLEASE NOTE: I know this may seem a lot to ask, but if you all have any prompt ideas, thoughts you want to happen when/specifics on how or when they meet, any events you want to to happen in the story, and any suggestions whatsoever big or small, please send them by PM or whatever. I've hit an unexpected roadblock with this point in the story and I'm afraid that updates will come slower because of this (which I REALLY don't want, from both my parts and yours). Any ideas are welcome, and from any person at unlimited amounts. It's now 2am as I'm posting this and I woke up at 8pm today; I don't know what's going on with me; and I'm still quite bothered by these last couple of days.. So PLEASE respond, if there are any_**


	7. Keep the Freaks In Cages

**_A/N: Do I have to put a warning that there will be mutant bashing in here? And given that at this time they aren't completely accepted? Well there is. In this chapter here. You've been warned._**

* * *

_"You built these weapons to destroy us. Why? Because you are afraid of our gifts...because we are different; because you fear that which is different."_

Rainy watched the television in silence playing the speech once over for the umpteenth time that month. She glances to her father who was seated, reading the paper once more. A pad with scribbled notes sat as his elbow. She chewed her food before asking him:

"What do you think of that; do you believe it?" The question was asked without opinion in her voice—just an empty question. She wanted to see what kind of person he was, now. Whether more than years were set between them.

"What? About that man with the helmet on tv?" He finally glances up from the paper, looking from the television, then to her before becoming obscured again. "No, I don't believe one bit of what that fluke is yammering on about. It's just a publicity stunt made by some freak who wants to become a big shot."

Rainy places her utensil down and stares in his direction as if she could see him past the many pages. "And why not?"

He turned a page. "Because things like that are an abomination. They don't belong here...or anywhere for that matter. All they do—what they've done—is cause more problems and trouble for us normal folk."

She remained silent for a second before asking, "so you think that being different is a bad thing? That it's something that can be controlled?"

"It is," he answered, "just by simply staying away from everyone else."

"So, they're evil...?"

"I believe so. Monstrosities. Abnormalities. Atrocities. Freaks. Whatever you want to call 'em—they're mistakes of God."

Rainy was silent. She sat speechless for quite some time, the only noises being the news anchors on the screen and the soft hum of the A/C. But her expression remained deadpanned. The quiet remained until her father took a loud slurped from his mug and folded the paper down to see her, asked:

"What made you ask that?" His gaze was solid, stern, and unwavering.

She had to determine her words carefully now. The conversation can take one of two turns now if the wrong thing was said.

"Have you ever _met _one?" she asked.

"You didn't answer my question, Rainy," he voice warning.

She just shrugged her shoulders in response. "I don't know."

He seemed to relax at that and straightened his paper. "No," he answers, "I've only met one once. It was a woman—a hideous woman with yellow, scaly-like skin and glowing eyes—at my job before, once. She had broken in and had done something to the guards, something with her eyes, I think, since they were glowing; she did something that killed them. She took one look at those men and they just fell to the floor. And then, she had come and tried to kill _me_. We all had to be told by the paramedics that those men had _died_. There had been something like a yellow patch of skin, almost like a mark, on their throats that were beginning to grow scales—I guess that's where she had stared at them, had used her..._"power_._"_ And just imagine that if just one of those things could take out two floors of fully-grown, armed men, what if there are more dangerous, worse ones out there?"

Rainy could tell that by the way he was staring at her as he talked, that in a way, he was trying to convince her as well.

"I've heard stories, too," her father added. "Some were about a woman who could rearrange her face and entire body, a man who could walk thru walls... Who's to say that one of them won't come into your home after a dispute, pretending to be one of your own family; or _poof _into a bank? Am I right?"

Rainy hesitated. She shrugged. "I don't know," she lied. "Sounds like you're basing this all off of one event and person."

"If someone you knew—if your grandmother were to be taken to the doctor's and died because of who was treating her care, wouldn't it only take one time until you become concerned of who's watching you, whose hands you placed your life in? Or if you're uncle were to be hit by a drunk driver; how many times would that take until you become convinced that driving while intoxicated is dangerous?"

Why did he have to put her grandmother in this? And her uncle?  
Bless their souls

"Those are two different things—those are events, not peop—-"

"It's the same exact thing, sweetie," he added the last bit to soften the blow. "Those _things_ are dangerous. And I just don't want you getting hurt," his tone softening at the end. It was similar to the same way he'd talk to her when she was small, when he would call about a picture she'd drawn or flowers she'd bring. But this time it was less sweet, less adoring.

He was also seeing her in a different light, as she was to him

The clip about the man in red helmet came back on the tv screen.

_"Well, I'm here to tell you—to tell the world—that you are right to fear us. We are the future. We are the ones that will inherit this Earth, and anyone who stands in our way will suffer the same fate as these men you see before you. Today was meant to be a display of your power...instead, I give you a glimpse of the devastation my race can unleash upon yours."_

"You see, what do you think of that? That's what I meant. _That's _what I'm trying to protect you and your mother from—psychos like that. Who's to say he wouldn't show up to town and try to take someone hostage for money or some _treaty_ to be made?"

Rainy paused, looking over her father who was still turned to the screen.

"He sounds like a man who's had enough."

_"Let this be a warning to the world—and to my mutant brothers and sisters out there, I say this: No more hiding, no more suffering. You have lived in the shadow of shame and fear for too long."_

Her father scoffed. "What's he got?"

Rainy tilted her head slightly. "From the way you're talking, it's like you've forgotten what Grandma and Grandpa had to go thru."

"My parents—your grandparents—never had to deal with such things," he snapped. He was growing frustrated, suspicious, by his tone.

Her voice remains calm still. "Not them; Mom's parents. Remember?"

Rainy's grandfather traveled to America from Europe and married her grandmother

Rainy is multiethnic

Her mother grew up with many hate crimes because of it

One of Rainy's grandparents had light, pale skin tone—  
Her grandfather—  
while the other was a creamy chocolate of the south—  
Her grandmother.

Her mother is biracial

She then has a grandfather who is of Hispanic and Caucasian ancestry, and a great-grandmother who is Native American—  
Rainy's father's parents.

Her father is "white"

Her father paused. "That's a completely different situation."

"How so?" she asked genuinely.

"They are like packing the destruction of a missile or bomb in one human body, that with one touch, can go off. Except with them, they can execute that power many times over again. They're a danger to themselves and those around." He looked her square in the eye. "Do you not get that," he squinted.

She didn't look away. "It sounds like the same thing Grandma and Grandpa went thru—similar—of people hating them for something beyond there control."

Her father sat back in the chair and folded his hands. That was never a good sign—whenever he folded his hands in that authority position, it meant that he was preparing to argue and debate, and he _rarely _backed down from his ground. "Don't tell me you're starting to feel _sorry _for them..."

Rainy watched his expression, debating how to go about answering him. She decided to just blurt her opinion. "I see them as people, not weapons of mass destruction."

"I never said that they would be used as weapons..." But it didn't seem like such a bad suggestion, he thought to himself.

"Okay, not _weapons_," she corrected herself, "But I don't see a different in them than us. They just are able to do things some can't. But surely not all of the possible abilities are dangerous."

"You don't think that the ability to make people toxically sick with the wave of an arm or shoot fire from one's hands _not _dangerous?"

On the television, a woman was speaking now. It was still covering the president assassination attempt by the man in the cape and helmet.

_"Come out, join me, fight together in the brotherhood of our kind; a new tomorrow...that starts today. "_

"The world would be safer—better—without wild things harming the defenseless every which way."

"You must feel very strongly about this." Her comment was truthful and without sarcasm.

"They belong in cages, if you ask me. Monsters deserve to be locked up."

PAUSE

"I heard from some place that it's possibly that people with those powers are the next step of evolution."

"Then they'll bring our extinction."

"Our?"

"Us normal folk."

She turned to him. "You really think that..?"

"Do you remember that Trask-guy? The man who invented those robots," he pointed to the screen with now showed several tall Sentinel robots. "There are many who believe the same thing as he did. Extinction is a basic law in evolution and has been proved many times over. _He _just predicted it and took action before anyone else did. Evolution has been key, but it's also dangerous."

"And it's unavoidable, right?"

Her father was silent, once again focused on his paper, finished with the conversation. The news changed to a different hot topic.

"..Then that'd just make us better," she concluded.

He ruffled a page. "I don't thing so, honey."

_She couldn't tell him that she thinks one had came into their home_

_Nope, definitely not_

.

* * *

**_A/N: Tell me if I'm going too far with this story and if I strike a few nerves. It's all unintentional, though. On a side note, the reason why some of these chapters aren't numbered is because, as said before, not all are in order. I'm publishing these chapters as the order they're written, so some will be present while others are the past. And again, any number and any kind of ideas, prompts, and suggestions are greatly appreciated._**

**_Ok so time for overdue reply to reviewers: _**_THANK YOU SO, SO, SO MUCH _**_moxiebird_**_ and _**_FanWriter83_**_. I'm really so happy that you like it. :) I do plan for this story to be complex—maybe not as much as The Matrix, but complex. Again, thank you so much :)_

**_to Raven: _**_you are just unbelievable. I smiled like a huge idiot while read this. All I can say right now is thanks so much because I'm smiling that much. But I'm taking what you said into consideration and will bring in more characters later on. And that little secret will be coming out in a few more chapters or so._

_But man, you have no idea how relieved I am to have these exams over now! ...Well, yes you do...but now I can update more, right? :) And admire? Aww...isn't that a bit much just yet? Given it's still the beginning of the story? (Gosh, I don't know! This is me not knowing how to accept a compliment.)_

_No need to hide anything, say whatever you want and however. I'm very welcoming to it. No need to hold back :D (as long as it's not flaming or threats, please...)_

**_to Miccacode: _**_Nahh, it's fine :) I hope you had fun, though :D I try to keep the writing and dialogue as realistic as possible, and of course, according to the Marvel universe, mainly the movies. And things being dragged out unnecessarily or not dragged out enough is one of the things that irritate me most in media too._

_But yeah, again, all apologies—it's fine. No worries. :)_


	8. Chapter 4: Insinuating

_**A/N: To al the Americans, had a fun Fourth of July? And to those worldwide who don't celebrate it, I hope you all had a good weekend as well. Mine was full of heavy thunderstorms and cancelled barbeques, sooo it was pretty fun (that was sarcasm)**_

_**Internet is down at my place so I'm stranded to only being able to use my phone to upload for the time being. So I have to admit that I was a little bored when I wrote the second half of this, so it isn't as grand as what you would expect. And my head has been hurting and feeling cloudy these few past weeks so please don't be surprised if I go without updating for a week or two. The break would be to clear my mind and get back into feeling better at writing.**_

* * *

Wanda's head whipped to the direction of front door after hearing it bam open then closed. She wasn't too surprised to find no one standing there in behind her; she paused, just listening, and chips still halfway to her mouth and stuffed in her cheek. The house returned to silence until a low clatter sounded from the basement. Wanda sighed, reluctantly leaving her potato chips and tv program to instigate. She kept turning as she left, straining to hear and catch the last bits of the television as she turned to the stairs to her brother's "room."

She'd call it more of a cave

Wanda stood at the top of the stairs and held both arms out at the rails, making sure there wasn't a chance that he couldn't slip past without her knowledge.

She screamed his name at the top of the stairs and immediately the noises below ceased.

Right away, she knew that he was guilty of something.

Wanda narrowed her eyes. She was expecting to maybe see a flurry of movement flash in front of her, maybe a few papers flutter in the air, but what she didn't expect when she got to the bottom was for him to be completely still, staring back at her.

Pietro was slightly hunched over a small tabletop, staring back at her from over his shoulder, eyes wide and hair a whirlwind. Something shone in his hand and Wanda's attention changed to that.

"What is that?"

He didn't answer her right away.

The answer then came to her. Her eyes widened in fury, finger twitching, pointing at the piece of jewelry in his hand he tried to cover up. Her mouth gapped open and close in an accusation she couldn't find the words for.

Pietro turned to her. "I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe try using words, that would help."

Wanda soon flu d her words and she gasped, "you didn't..!"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you're accusing me for, I didn't do it! I've been good, for once." He tried to hide the cocky smile forming on his face but failed tremendously.

Wanda huffed, becoming angry stomping across the floor to stand toe to toe with him. Pietro's smile diminished. Wanda grabbed his hand and brought it up to both's eye level. A large diamond pin glistened between his fingers.

"Really, you didn't do it?! Then who's is this, 'cause last thing I knew, you aren't graduating in a year." It was a class pin assigned to someone who would be graduating that school year. "Whose is this?"

"I don't know—yours? Some lady who dropped it and left it on the ground? Some guy who was feeling generous toward the needy?" He spoke quickly, sarcastically. The smile was gone now. "Which do you think Marya would believe more?"

Wanda's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "I think she would believe that your need to "burn energy" and your sticky fingers have reached its limit."

His face fell completely. "Please don't tell Marya," he whimpered.

Wanda sister looked him up and down he now looked regretful. His wrist was now limp in her hold in defeat.

It took her a while and some consideration, but she eventually muttered, "ok. Fine. She's gonna find out either way, so I'd rather not be involved in yet another round of you all's dispute." She sighed. She slipped her fingers into his hand, taking the pin from his grasp. "But you're gonna have to return this."

Pietro sucked air between his teeth. "What if I told you that wasn't exactly possible...?"

Wanda raised a brow.

He continued, his words beginning to tumble together. "...That the guy who had had it wanted to pummel me to the floor, that plus he isn't even exactly going to be in school for some time..." He then rambled something about football is all she got left.

Wanda blinked.

"You're still going to have to get rid of it eventually."

"Eventually is relative," he answered back smartly.

Wanda notices the small, yet sure grin spreading his cheeks and the dangerous glint in his eyes. She slides the pin into her jacket pocket, making sure to keep her hand around it, less he tried to pick it from her.

"Besides," he continued, "that was going to be our ticket for that fancy dinner you've been wanting. Plus Marya." He paused before pointing at the hand in her pocket. That grin began to slowly returned.

Wanda took steps back, brown eyes narrowed once more. "No, Pietro." She would have to sleep with the pin under her pillow tonight, knowing he would try to pry it from her at any opportunity.

The grin on his face grew dangerous.

"Oh yes, młoda siostra."

"Pietro..." Her voice warned, sounding unsure. It then clicked to her and she then understood the glint in his eyes and her stomach dropped. Wanda's eyes enlarged. Her grip on the pin tightened. "Stay away from me!"

Pietro just stepped closer, smiling crazily, fingers raised in front of him and tickling the air.

"I swear to you, ty pełzanie," she took a step back, raising a finger at his chest and almost stumbled, "I won't go easy on you!"

"Oh please! Like you can even control your power!"

He then lurked toward her making her shriek. Wanda fled up the stairs. His echoing laughter seemed to mock her.

Running was useless

Wanda glanced over her shoulder and seeing no one was there. She ran up from the basement and turned the corner to the stairs to her room as fast as she could. She slowed to takes a look back once more and saw as a blur of grey collided into her and toppled her to the floor.

Wanda screamed, hitting the floor.

When Marya Maximoff returned home, she was welcomed by a sight she neither expected to see nor has seen any like it in years, though it altered and slightly odd.

The woman was met by Wanda in tears on the living room floor as the girl reached a hand up for mercy, her brother still on top of her, tormenting her. He moved from her arms, her waist, her feet; Wanda screamed.

Wanda HATED being tickled

Pietro had been tickling Wanda for longer than any took account for.

Marya's daughter squirmed in her arms, throwing her arms in the air. "I WANNA PLAY!"

* * *

"Yes. Yes, here." Michelle smiled.

Rainy frowned; that was the smile Micelle wore whenever she had an idea knew Rainy wouldn't particularly be acceptant to.

But then again, the girl was rarely acceptant to anything.

_"Why?"_

_"Because you need the help."_

_"Says who?"_

"Says everyone," Michelle exaggerated. She searched thru the many shirts and long skirts that hung in Rainy's closet. There was a surprising amount of tie-dye that she never saw the girl wear. "And are you going to be able to be free this weekend?" She looked over a knee-length grey skirt for a moment before tossing it over her shoulder.

Rainy's frowned deepened. "You don't have to do this, you know."

Michelle just smiled. She looked over her shoulder at her friend seated on the end of her bed. "Yes I do." That large smile was there again. "How long it's been? ...Two years for us? ...You'll thank me later, girl, trust me."

Rainy wasn't going to correct her that they've been friends for only almost a full year now, not two. She wouldn't have had a chance to get more clothes if it weren't for Michelle, and honestly, she was quite glad that the girl had come over.

Michelle tossed several more clothing over her shoulder.

"No, not that!" Rainy called, seeing a sweater fall among the pile of rejects. She scurried, snatching it from the floor. "Not this one."

Michelle paused. "Why?"

Rainy hesitated. "Just...not this one."

Michelle raised a brow.

Rainy wouldn't tell her, but that was the last thing she wore before she was changed

It was the last piece she had of her stolen memories

Michelle breathed exaggeratedly, giving in. Her lime green bangles sounded as she resumed cleaning out Rainy's closet. "Make sure you're free this weekend, alright. Oh, and Sherry Addams wanted to talked to you about something yesterday. She wouldn't stop bugging me about it." Another tye-dye shirt was added to the pile.

Luckily, neither parent was home when she arrived

Rainy mumbled into the sweater. It was curled around her arms that now rested on her bent knees. She knew that Michelle planned to take her to the mall along with her. It wasn't the first time her friend spoke about it. And honestly, Rainy knew that she didn't have the best clothes—that's what comes with parents who either spend the spare on business or blow it all on personal luxuries.

But then, it's maybe because she never spoke up about it

Either way, Michelle had gotten the gist of it, without knowing the exact details

"What does she want—Sherry?" Rainy asked, watching a collection of hand-me-downs hit the floor.

"I don't know," Michelle shrugged, "she's _your_ friend."

That part was true; Michelle and Sheryl, though both friends of the brunette, were two different people. Both rarely interacted with the other, and Rainy was left to whomever would pull her in their groups up for the longest for that day, if even.

"I didn't ask anything else because I didn't want to be stuck hearing her yammering on and on." The comment was said bitterly and low to where it was easily misheard. "Oh, this is cute!" Michelle turned, holding up a bright green cropped top.

Rainy smirked bitterly. "What's with you and green," she joked.

Michelle smiled cheekily.

Now it were days like this that she had to admit that she enjoyed, that were more relaxing. Rainy has tried—she attempts too hard to appear normal that it grew tiresome, and it were days like this that she was grateful to not have to feel on guard constantly. It was when there weren't much to worry about, with more time to herself and less nonsense.

Rainy Capulet didn't get that a lot.

In between school, time with those she called friends, and being dragged to meetings and conferences by her father's campaign, peace and quiet came rare to her. That's probably why she was didn't put up an argue to go and confront the bubbly strawberry blonde the next day at school.

Sherry attached to Rainy's arm when she walked in the next day. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Sherry was already chatting away about some babbling or another, the conversation quickly changing from a planned agenda to stuffed pandas to what she had for breakfast. Of course, at this point, Rainy was barely listening.

The class was english and writing, and this class in particular was known for being one of the most rambunctious out of them all. They could thank a handful of students for that, those in particular who thought it fun to poke fun at those around and mock the teacher until he was ready to scream.

It was like two sides competing in battle of who could be the larger asshole

The class didn't get many privileges because of this

Those teams included some who considered themselves big shots

and a few who wore a black jacket, one with neon sneakers, and another with silver hair

Rainy looked up seeing Mr. Moore walking into the room, throwing three large books on his desk before moving to the podium at the front of the room.

From her seat, Rainy was able to see most of the classroom. Her gaze glanced over the room. Almost everyone was talking among themselves. Her eyes fell upon a pair staring back at her—or in her general direction—from over his shoulder. The boy with silver hair raised a brow at her slightly as he continued talking amongst those near him and she scowled. Why was he even staring in her general direction? What was it about her that he had to whisper to them? Rainy rolled her eyes, making it clear in her body language that she didn't want anything to do with him, and turned back forward to the front of the room. Sherry was still chatting away in her ear.

The boy watched her several seconds longer before he too turned forward again, sucking his lip and eyes widening in an unspoken saying.

Wanda shook her head to herself from across the room.

Mr. Moore waited patiently until the room lowered its voices, or as low as it would get. When that was accomplished, he ordered for all to get out a paper and pen—today the class was going to begin touching on poetry.

Most of the room either groaned or complained that it would ruin the experience. The few that remained silent were Rainy and a girl with brown hair wearing a red hood.

"Get into groups and you all will read the passages assigned and discuss the meaning among each other."

The class calmed at this.

"And I will be assigning groups to make sure less of you all goof off."

The complaining returned.

Why did every teacher seemed to like assigning groups? ?

Rainy listened silently as names were grouped together and work assigned, unlike most of the class. After more talking and taking role, desks and chairs screeched as groups were formed.

She was grouped with Sherry

She knew that she was of the few that the teacher liked

(but not favored)

due to attitude and performance

"Well at least we got paired together, right?" Sherry spoke, and not waiting for an answer, "I don't know anything about...Lambourough...? Never even heard of anything of these he wrote, have you? I can't even understand a single word here..." Sherry now mumbled to herself, looking completely sullen.

Rainy knew that the girl was getting tutored for this but kept quiet. School hasn't been in particularly difficult for her. Given that it was the only thing she had a purpose for spending her time on, and that she could never get into anything else.

No matter how hard she has tried

_just nope._

She doesn't have any hobbies because of this

She does everything to keep herself busy so she isn't just sitting, waiting for the day to end

and Then she was mostly ordered around by others...

that comes with being without, as she is

Sherry perked up, seeing two others approach their conjoined desks. She smiled seeing both boys bring a chair to sit across them, one with blonde curls. Sherry's smile widened and her eyes began to sparkle.

Rainy stared in almost annoyance as the second lazily dragged a chair and flopped at the front of her desk. The boy with grey hair bit the inside of his cheek, looking on at the strawberry blonde in annoyance. The way he had brought the chair made it clear that this class was the last place he wanted to be.

"Well, I'm Sherry," she placed a hand on her chest, clearly enjoying this.

A social butterfly was an understatement to her openness

Rainy didn't realize she was glaring at the boy in front of her until she felt Sherry nudge her leg. He was focussed on anything but the group.

"What's your name?" Sherry folded her hands under her propped chin. It was as if she only had eyes for the blonde in front of her.

Unlike her, the boy only glanced up as he looked for the assigned page. "Uh, Ed," he answered.

The other beside him sighed loudly. His necked lolled over the back of the chair. All eyes turned to him; he didn't notice it right away. He straightened up a bit when he did.

A bit.

"My name's Peter," he waved sarcastically before puffing his cheeks and rolling his eyes, focussing on something else.

"Okay~, and this is Rainy. Everyone knows each other—good. Now, does anyone know what the heck this even means?" Sherry tried to break the awkwardness unsuccessfully.

Ed looked up at her, brows furrowing.

Sherry became nervous. "O-or if no one does, w-we can try and figure it out...?"

Ed raised a brow.

Mr. Moore spoke up then. "Now everyone, you have the next fifteen minutes to come up with a interpretation and share it with class."

Sherry volunteered to speak. Ed explained his interpretation of the passage. Both girls scribbled notes on paper until a gloved hand came down on the top of Rainy's. Her pencil paused but didn't look up.

Peter looked at her.

Rainy was growing annoyed. She only looked up when hearing: "you were in Trevelyan's class last year, weren't you." His voice was low, obviously not wanting the others to hear. Ed maybe; it wasn't like Sherry would have paid enough attention to hear.

Rainy eyed him, brows creasing.

"Yeah you were," he remembered. He had an elbow folded under him on the desktop. He was leaned over her desk as well but neither a paper or pen of his own was near him.

"What's it to you?"

"We were in the same class."

She didn't respond.

SUSPICIOUS

"You remember m—-" He broke off then decided to go with instead: "you remember that?"

She hesitated. "No. I don't remember that at all." She went back to writing, missing the flash of shock and then disappointment on his face before he covered it up. "My memory doesn't exceed this year. Before that, nothing." She spoke so calmly, as if this was just a normal conversation over breakfast, not something supposedly secret he was trying to hint at her.

"Is that how you got that burn on your arm then?" He tilted his chin, knowing exactly how she got it. "Doesn't look like something from fire..."

Her eyes darted in his direction.

She was already starting not to like him

Not one bit

The tension spiked

"Why would you want to know any of this anyway?" Her eyes shone dangerously. She noticed his brows beginning to arch downward as hers were.

Peter didn't look away. "Because—-"

Ed then interrupted then, calling for their attention to be directed toward the work. Peter retorted with a comment about panties up someone's ass and cooling jets.

Ed's cheeks flushed. Rainy couldn't tell if that was from embarrassment or anger. Sherry was left looking back and forth from both boys, somehow completely lost.

Peter didn't speak to her for the rest of class that day. But before leaving, he did hold her gaze once more and gave a slight, sly grin.

Rainy ran into him two days later, unexpected.

_THE TENSION SPIKED_

She hadn't liked that smile he had given her.

* * *

**_A/N: noticed Brett's "missing" class pin from last chapter? ;)_**

**_Wow, I didn't expect for this to be in the 3k word range... I did write another chapter for July 4th but it had too much forshadowing and some spoilers that was too early to post just yet. Anyhow, another chapter should be coming soon._**

**_Replies:_**

_One largely oversized thank you and shout-out to **icanhearthedrums**. Besides absolutely loving your username, I have to admit I was so, SO selfconscious when I first got that 'NEW REVIEW' notification. But still and again, thanks so much. I'm sorry, words escape me right now other than you made me smile! **((**You all go check out icanhearthedrums' short story 'LAID BARE' for a good laugh and if Cherik is your cup of tea.**))**_

**_I thought about it, and are you all who are following, are you feeling left out? Would you like me to give shout-outs to you as well who have added this story? I'm only asking because I REALLY don't know._**

**_to Miccacode:_**_ Wow, just thank you thank you thank you. I was beginning to wonder that last chapter was maybe a bit harsh and I probably stepped on a few toes (and again to all those, I didn't mean to!) but you've made me feel better and more confident about it :) _

_And there's starting to be more OC varieties?! That's so cool! ...I haven't been reading enough fics lately then... (And is that for all of FF that there's beginning to be more variety, or just in the X-Men category ?) Because I guess that someone probably didn't like that, I'm guessing, because a follower was lost :/ But thanks to the newsies who added this._

_And yes, I do plan to re-order all the chapters when it's about over, may more be re-numbering due to less hassle and less blowing up people's notifications_

**_to Raven:_**_ forgive me please, I've just dealt with my first batch of flamers for anothwr atory of mine so I'm a bit paranoid recently. But dude (or dudette?) why do you always have to make me smile like an idiot at my phone? DX And does it have to go without saying that I'm pretty floored that this story is so liked? Especially that it's still at the very beginning? Well I am :)_

_And yes, we're free elves! ! __(for the time being) Y__ou have my feelings completely about tests. Me no like exams. EW!_

_But really I laughed when reading your comment even though I knew I shouldn't have. I didn't purposely make her father a character to hate; I honestly made him as a person who sees the situation in a completely different light, like two sides of the same coin...Or maybe as a more familiar example, Charles and Erik...wait, maybe that isn't the best example...they have nothing to do with this...forget what I just typed.._

_So, ANYWAYSS..as far as I could tell, you're excellent at English. I had NO idea that it wasn't :) _

_And now I must ask you: LONG REVIEWS? ME BORED AT THEM? ? REALLY?! Dude, do you not realize how much writers eat those up? We ABSOLUTELY LOOOVE THEM! We get excited by just any review by anyone, but we get so high off of long reviews :) So to answer, no, I haven't and doubt I will grow bored with your long reviews, and all those who send them in :D_


	9. Chapter 5: The Girl Without Memory I

**_A/N: Title may be subject to change._**

* * *

A gypsy  
A basketcase  
And a thief

This would typically be seen as an odd group of individuals by some, many wondering just how they got along and that surely they must clash with each other too much.

They did, for sure

Many times they did, but they made it work. They had to. After all, they were family.

From the first day Marya Maximoff laid eyes on the two tiny bundles swaddled in cloth, she had fallen in love with the twins. Her husband, on the other hand, had been more wary in acceptance at first. Marya couldn't blame him. From knowing their mother and hearing stories of who they guessed was the father, Marya understood his concern. But she also knew that they were just human as well, they were innocent.

They were just infants

And upon Magda's dying words, Marya held in her heart as her duty that she would uphold the silent promise to keep them, to protect them, and grow them up into a fine man and woman. All went well despite the death of her close friend, and with the help of the others they traveled with—and of course her husband—they were able to manage.

And then her husband disappeared

The once-headstrong Romani woman then suddenly crumbled; Marya was only twenty-four then. Scared and still young, she continued traveling with her family and Magda's twins, gaining reassurance and consultance when needed. And slowly, but surely, Marya returned to herself and was growing happy once more—after all, she had other lives to worry about now rather than just her own. All began piecing back together to normal again...and then the camp was attacked.

She had also found out that she was pregnant

Many of the others split up, others had ran blindly or right into the enemy. Still, others had not been so lucky.

The twins were almost seven when it all happened. And needless to say, seeing what was once your home up in flames with the stench of everything burning is not a pleasant memory to keep.

Though, Marya is thankful that she and the twins were able to get out alive, even it only being with the clothes on their backs and the necklace Marya's Nana had given her hours before the attack as good luck that she held close to her chest.

It's ironic when you think about it. Though, sadly, she had to part with the jade necklace in order to make enough money to get them all by. And within almost half a year, they managed to catch a flight to America, following stories told and hoping that they could make a better life there.

The rest is history, and can be figured out.

Not many of the others from their traveling family followed them across the seas.

Marya and the twins were homeless for a period of time until she found a decent job. She worked her way up, the twins grew strong, and as time passed, they all grew into a normal American family.

And then her daughter was born ,

The twins' powers began to appear

And things took to a whole new level. On one hand, the woman couldn't be happier; on another, they had _powers_ when in a world that hadn't shown much favor for. It also took _babysitting _to another step.

But still, Marya was happy. The twins provided much needed help with her new daughter which came difficult from her job's hours. More than once, they have shown empathy towards her and have offered to find ways for coming up with money. Marya had always shot them down, but still, there were times when money would suddenly disappear and reappear in her purse, and there was twice that a "misunderstanding" with her bank account that a large sum had suddenly appeared, and was then disappeared after being reported. She knew that it all was in good intentions, but it was increasingly challenging to raise superpowered children in secrecy.

Magda would have been proud

But of course, as typical when raising any kids, as the years when by, things begun to change. But Marya couldn't complain—she had a well-paying job, three beautiful children, good health, a roof over their heads and food to eat.

Wanda was a somewhat quiet girl who didn't like confrontation, and Pietro always seemed to seek attention.

Her brother gave into his abilities, his impulsiveness,

She became afraid and tried to control her powers.

Marya's own daughter was just a bubbly, pink-loving tyke.

Wanda was the family's peacekeeper.

And Marya saw that as her abilities began to appear, Wanda came more out of her shell.

Wanda was the somewhat quiet child.

Pietro, on the other hand...

_* Knock Knock Knock Knock ! *_

_"Peter! Why are the cops here? What did you do!"_

* * *

Meisha is one who could be called intuitive. Ever since she was very small, she has had an uncanny ability to identify one's true emotions or intentions no matter how buried or denied they were. It was like something that was like second nature to her, and it wasn't until she was eight did her parents realize that it was the product of a mutation rather than just "strange coincidences."

This ability has followed her since, and with her now in high school, it was becoming more troublesome.

This power was one she found odd, especially given both of her parents and family, as far as she knew, were all normal. And at first, she hadn't wanted it. Meisha had felt isolated, abnormal, vulnerable, and alone, despite her parents' indifference of their show of affection towards her.

Her parents hadn't cared about her power

To this day, Meisha hasn't fully welcomed it; she has just come to accept it.

This had been evident in the way she cared herself, the low volume she spoke, and in her attitude. She would shy away from any contact, not wanting to have the sense of their thoughts and wants crowding her mind—the feeling was impossible to hold in and get rid of when it was inquired, and usually led to her blurting out intentions that most would have wanted to keep secret. Because of this, the friends she had in the past hadn't lasted very long, and those that had stayed, eventually moved away anyway.

Her parents showered her with as much appreciation they could offer, treating her no different than if she hadn't gained a mutation. But it began growing difficult to muster a smile and approving attitude when their child would only sulk and frown.

The day her parents expressed this to her, which was followed by another event later at school that day, was when her second mutation surfaced. And to this day, Meisha hasn't uttered a word to any soul of the shock and the blood that had covered the school bathroom floor that day.

And then, Meisha isolated herself

And kept her hair tied in a braid to prevent it from happening again

Her hair was the first thing that Pietro commented on when seeing her for the first time. There was no "hello" or even some excuse about the weather.

_"Your hair is freaky long! And so red...is that natural?!"_

_Meisha stared back at him, mouth hung open in an unsure drone. She lowered her hand from __the top of her hair from __fiddling with her hairpins. "Yes~" she drew out the word, unsure of his motives. "This is the color I was born with. At least, I'm MODERATELY sure it wasn't changed when I was a baby..." she added with sarcasm._

_ "Why do you keep it in a braid?"_

_"Because I like it."_

_"So you never thought about doing something else with it? I don't know, like pin it up in a really cool, weird style or in twists or something. Be creative. 'Cause just one braid is boring. LAME. ...It'd make a really cool mullet!"_

_ Meisha frowned. "I do it because I have to. Besides," she could feel her eyes beginning to burn from tears. She didn't quite like this, "what are you to say? Isn't that just a bad dye job!"_

_He had laughed and then asked, "can you, like, wrap it around yourself or use it to carry something or tie something up with it..." He turned to a singsong voice, "can you tie it in a knot can you tie it in a bow?!"_

_She paused. "Why do you ask so many questions!?"_

_To her annoyance, he just smirked and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I kinda like you ya know..you're funny."_

And since that day, they have stuck together.

_"And by the way, your hair makes the braid it kinda cool."_

Meisha's parents were also happy

That she has come to accepting herself more and her powers since. ...And mainly, it had to do with her being able to identify with others like herself.

And once she revealed her ability to emotion-read, Pietro had only grown more excited.

Pietro

Meisha

Ronny

And that is how they were now.

**.**

Meisha trailed after him down the hallway, doing her best by all but jogging to keep up with Peter's fast pace. She called for him to slow down as she fought against the stream of students going the opposite way.

"Can't," he answered simply, pushing through a group of girls with MALL hair.

The students soon thinned out and she was able to sprint to his side. "Then you mind telling me exactly what we're doing this time?"

Only a smile gracing his face was her answer and Meisha looked over her shoulder nervously seeing the hall quickly empty the further they walked. This was one of those mischievous smirks he had when he was up to something that would most likely, on the norm, get them detention, jumped, or yelled at.

"No time."

He hurried around a corner and Meisha had to put in unnecessary effort just to stay behind him. Here, around the corner, the halls were entirely cleared.

"Then what exactly will we need?" She watched him look around and then suddenly appear further down the hall and was spinning a lock on one of the lockers. Meisha ran up to look over his shoulder just as he pulled the door open.

"A toothpick. Duct tape. Screwdriver. A bag. Rope. And lots and lots of bleach. And plastic wrap," he answered pulling out three of the said materials. "The bleach can wait 'til next time, the plastic wrap now."

"And so you need me for...the screwdriver part..?"

"And the rope." He shuffled papers around in the locker as if looking for something more.

Meisha sighed heavily to herself and refusing to smile. Peter seemed to always find a way to trap her in one of his schemes, seeming to like using her mainly as a resource because of her power.

But secretly she liked it,  
she didn't mind

And Meisha could already feel her braid twitching, the end barely brushing against the back of her knees and she fisted her sides. Why did she insist on this boy, she questioned herself for seemingly the umpteenth time.

Meisha watched him shuffle aside a wad of loose-leaf pages. "And how long is this supposed to take?" she faintly worried.

"Don't worry, it's just going to take a couple seconds. Minutes, maybe."

"That's what you said last time. You know that it isn't good for Ronny to be in crowds alone!"

_Their friend, Ronny, doesn't like crowds or any group gatherings_

_That was how he had discovered his mutation_

_almost blending in completely to the building right next to his parents_

TERRIFYING

PANIC

_His mutation_

_it always happened when he was nervous_

_Especially in crowds_

_ "You guys go on ahead. Just hurry back," Ronny sucked his lip._

The locker door closed quickly from his speed. Peter turned and began continuing down the way, still that same up-to-no-good smirk on his face. "He'll be fine!" He didn't even look back at Meisha and that made her worry just how long he has been plotting this.

Peter hiked the roll of plastic wrap under his arm and stuck the duct tape between his teeth. Meisha took the large bag from him so he could hide the tape in his jacket and bit her lip catching his shirt rise in the effort.

"And so what's gonna be done with all those?" She knew that there was no use trying to diverge him now.

"Well, first, I'm gonna need _you _ to take out all the screws in Dean Picardy's office. That's step one. _Then_, I have this plan that by the next assembly, to make the principle's pants fall apart by using enough bleach..."

**. . .**

The students on their grade year and those a year ahead were who was called into the gymnasium for yet another mandatory assembly. ...It seemed the more fights and misconduct that occurred, the more mandatory assemblies the principle arranged.

The minute it had announced this and clicked off the intercom, the students begun to leave, many mumbling about it. Meisha already knew what the steel-haired mutant behind her had been up to. He had looked up and stared ahead when the assembly had been announced and remained that way until their classmates begun packing. She had watched as he smirked slyly, turned to Ronny, spoke something too low to hear and stood from his chair. She had followed too, only pausing when Ronny split from the trio—he was to keep watch during the assembly.

And in the bleachers was where the two found him as Peter slinked into the gym, ignoring the eyes from the teachers of his tardiness. Meisha wasn't far behind. And just as she suspected, Ronny was seated and rubbing his forearms in-between his knees, eyes shifting and bouncing nervously.

In the gym, Peter puffed his cheeks in a sigh, sliding into the space next to the mutant and Ronny almost immediately calmed and returned to normal.

"How long was that?" Peter rubbed his hands together, still riding out the last of the burst of adrenaline.

"Just over 7 minutes." Ronny glanced at his watch. He breathed a sigh. "Would we need to run again ...Uh, and camera's ready back in my bag."

"No need." Peter pursed his lips, pushing down an arrogant smile. "Just wait for fourth class history and it's sure to be announced."

Meisha watched as several more students entered the gym.

Good, so now they wouldn't be easily singled out.

"So, uh. What's all this about?" Peter nodded to the next random teacher below who was tapping the mic and taking his turn to speak.

The entire gymnasium covered their ears until the mic's feedback passed.

"Ah, you just missed a _"very" _important speech covering the need to stop bullying, one on upcoming tests and there was one on the importance of peer pressure. Now I think they're gonna be saying something about tardiness and that lunchroom fight you started last time," Ronny gestured to the adults below and gave pointed looks at the boy beside him as he spoke.

Peter turned to him. "Hey! That fight wasn't entirely my fault, I didn't even start it anyway that jerkoff did!"

Ronny snickered and bumped his shoulder. He knew and was only joking.

The adult at the microphone continued. He spoke that there would be the upcoming spirit week and the usual fundraiser booths coordinated by the student government's senior president. Unnecessary enthusiasm was put into the announcement.

Ronny had smirked at the mention of Spirit week. Peter had smiled for other reasons. Meisha remained frowning.

Spirit week was just an excuse by those on the student government use to raise money. Despite, it has worked almost every time since being first constructed.

The senior president was a guy whom had won grade representative and a position on the student council throughout his years of high school and now held this spot in senior year.

Then, the teacher announced that in honor of this year's fifteenth birthday, there will be a competition among the class of this grade to get the highest attendance wins a movie night in the gym for first place, a pizza party for the class as second, and so on. To a majority of the students, being on time was nonessential.

"Oh really," Peter perked at this, yet another idea already fully formulating in his mind and he smirked. "...So...basically a great time to ask out Mckenzie..." he rubbed his hands together, speaking more to himself.

No one caught Meisha rolling her eyes and her small snarl.

"Pffft!" Ronny obviously heard and looked over, catching the other boy staring not too far off at a laughing brunette in a red bandanna headband and jean jumpsuit. Ronny sighed lightly, shook his head and smiled.

"And how exactly do you _possibly_ think that could go about—_successfully—_without slip ups, butterfingers? You know how she is, and that she's _never _alone." Ronny looked up just in time to catch the girl in question lean over and brush her lips along the face of a boy seated next to her. Peter had turned away and hadn't seen.

"That's what everyone says; you don't know that for sure," Peter defended.

Ronny looked away, his gaze then drifted to a light haired brunette seated not too far away from the girl of affection just mentioned. "Besides, what about Miss Frigid; weren't you just trying to get her life story a few days ago," he joked.

Peter then followed where he watched when the subject changed and catching Rainy settled between that steadily talking blonde from English class and Samuel Jefferson, the school's star ball player with an age younger than his size let on. Peter was surprised the girl wasn't showing signs of discomfort from being wedged next to the dark ball player.

"Oh her," Peter pointed a finger in the girl's direction, "what about her?" he asked as if it was no big deal.

Ronny raised a brow.

"Yeah I asked about her, so what? That's nothing serious," the speedster dismissed.

"So what," Ronny repeated and chuckled. It sounded like it was meant more for himself.

Peter's look didn't change upon the mention of one of the school's most popular girls.

"You're serious about this," he asked just to make sure.

Peter's brows furrowed. He glanced above once more when he was sure Ronny wasn't looking and caught Rainy rubbing her arm. It was in the same area where she had been burnt.

"What's that's supposed to mean? You don't think I can do it?" Peter meant towards asking out Mckenzie, a feat in itself that would be considered a miracle by any under-aged male.

"I _know _you wouldn't be able to do it!"

"...gonna start being just like her," Meisha shook her head, remaining faced toward the speaking adults.

"Exactly, Meisha! Man, you aren't gonna last. Now, with asking her out—maybe you'd be successful. But dude, you know Mckenzie was with a nineteen year old before, and just last year she broke up with that senior guy right before graduation from after, like, two years. You _do _remember that, right?"

"Yeah I do—-"

"Okay then, I rest my case," Ronny said. "Go ahead and do what you gotta, but _I _think it's dangerous to have these two girls on your hands, alright."

Two-timing

Meisha's brows shot up and she turned to them.

"Dude, I'm not trying to say to handle both of them like that in _that _ way. No—just no. What the hell anyway—!"

"Alright~..." Ronny placed a hand on his chest in mock concern. "I was worried that I'd might have to start digging your grave for ya early."

"He'll never do it anyway," Meisha muttered into her knuckle. "Mckenzie is too..how do I say this nicely? ...Too _way up there _to reach." She raised her fist to emphasis. "She's just...no."

Peter frowned. "Well who asked you anyway."

Ronny caught her eye and smiled. "I don't think so either, Meisha." This earned the silver-haired teen to turn on him now. "Besides, I hear Juliet's a hard one to crack, doesn't speak to hardly anyone and it's worse if she does. It'd be a miracle if anyone even found just what her problem was..." he mused about Rainy.

"Not really. I've talked to her already before," Peter shrugged. "A little cold, somewhat talkative, all around snappy," he smirked. He then shook his head in sympathy, sucking his teeth. "She's not your type."

"Oh, _my _type," Ronny chuckles. "I'm _not sure _just _whose_ type she actually is, but all I'm saying is that Mckenzie would be too much to handle," he smirked knowing he was just urking his friend. His words were true, however. "You know how many guys she turns down _a_ _day_?" he exaggerated. "Besides, I think Juliet over there would be easier...for someone who doesn't mind getting their ears bitten off," that last remark was about Rainy.

Meisha tilted her head and added to the teasing. "You're saying it like you heard this all like facts somewhere."

"I'm saying it 'cause I _know_," Ronny answered. "And that I did hear it from somewhere. 'Cause I bet he couldn't anyway."

Peter looked Ronny in the eye. His brows arched, tempted. "Is that a challenge I'm hearing?"

Ronny paused for a moment to think it over. Whenever he let down from a bet or challenge with him, Peter liked to hold it over his head until he felt content or bored, which could last for months of chicken bawks and snide comments and girly references. So, not wanting to let down his ego, Ronny answered, "yeah, yeah it is. I'll even pay ya."

Now he had the speedster's attention. Peter arched a brow, intrigued, "how much are we talking?"

"Well, _I'm _talkin' about the forty you're gonna be paying _me_ when she'd still be on her ex by the time of the gym movie showing."

Peter's brows raised, looking impressed. "Ooh. " He smiled. "Challenge excepted!"

By now, Meisha's insides were turning. She had been hoping that Peter wouldn't, but that was impossible, knowing him. The end of her braid twitched and her hand inched to squeeze it in her grasp. She wiped her look of shock and replaced it with narrowed eyes.

* * *

**_A/N: I am SO sorry this chapter is late. I had no idea that a weekend of partying would put me back so much. I'll try to have the next chapter up by this weekend at the latest._**

**_I've been watching 80s movies to try and get a better picture of the time since I'm a 90s baby and have few collections of it. If anyone notices mistakes of timeline and such or just simply have suggestions of more 80s stuff, please say so._**

**_ Replies:_**

**_to Cyanide Siren: _**_thanks so much! :)_

**_to Land on the stars:_**_ well, maybe if you read past chapter three, you would probably start to understand why Rainy's a little bitchy._

_Also, a thanks to the guest who called __themselves **H** for pointing out Rainy and her attitude. (By the way, if you read the A/N in each chapter, you'd understand which chapter went where.) I had not realize that she may be border-lining "too mean" and I'll try to amp up Peter to counter ;) _

**_And rest assure, if any of you think that she's a bit too mean as well, that's planned to change in coming chapters. :)_**


	10. Chapter 6: The Girl Without Memory II

**_ A/N: It seems like whenever I say I'll upload on one date, I end up uploading anytime but the one planned... I'm just going to stop that and try to update at least once a week. (By the way, I got stuck babysitting for the third time in a row. Otherwise, this would have been up earlier.)_**

**_I was up til 6 this morning working on this! Opinions are much appreciated!_**

* * *

Rainy groaned, her fingertips messaging her temples before returning to aid the wad of tissues under her nose.

Three minutes. Almost three whole minutes she's been sitting out here, bleeding like crazy. It was three minutes too long than she'd like to be here. She was also losing class time...

She pulled the tissue back, saw that it was soaked with red, and sighed. Her head softly thudded against the wall behind her. Luckily, the pressure she had been applying earlier had seemed to help stop the flow a significant amount, but still, she needed help.

She was waiting in the hall outside the school nurse's office now. There was apparently a student already inside who was in need for personal time, of a deal needed to be discussed alone with the nurse, Rainy had suspected by the faint sobs heard minutes ago. She also knew that the office inside was small and that a sickly student sleeping took the only other room.

But still, this wait had been going on for much too long for her liking. But she felt lucky that her head wasn't spinning just yet..

Rainy looked between the clumps of tissue again and saw that it was almost completely soaked with blood in a matter of minutes. She looked down the halls, saw no one and that everyone must still be in class, threw it away in the bin across the way and scurried back to her seat before anyone could see and to make herself a tissue-walrus.

"_"Come outside," Sherry said. "It's just a little hot, we won't be out that long," she said_," Rainy mocked to herself in a heightened voice.

It was around 98 degrees and climbing when Rainy had been insisted by Sherry to come outside to the school's field. Thinking that she would just there as someone for the strawberry blonde to talk to, and that she would have left relatively soon, Rainy had thought nothing of it. Also because it wasn't the first time. It was when Sherry insisted that Rainy stay for Sherry's gym class and participate, did things take an unexpected turn.

Sherry had wanted her to stay out in the blazing sun

In jeans

And participate in Sherry's class

when she didn't even have the clothes for it

such as flipping a tractor's tire across the field

no shorts

in almost 103 degrees

_"You'll be fine. You're wearing a skirt, just take off the jean jacket."_

The temperature seemed to remarkably escalate as time went by.

The coach hadn't cared when other students came to the P.E. class as long as her own were attending and did as they needed.

When Sherry had been merely sweating out in the heat, Rainy was bent over her long jean skirt gasping for breath with closed eyes. Sherry was the one who noticed the red droppings onto the grass; she put a hand on Rainy's shoulder and asked if she was ok and had practically panicked when she saw the deep flush on Rainy's face and the thin lines of blood trailing down to the girl's lips.

Rainy doubted that she'd be allowed to come to that class again, even when she would lie that she was in her assigned class when it happened. She would especially tell with how quickly the coach ushered everyone inside following Sherry's small freak-out.

And now she was waiting her turn in the nurse's for her excuse to call for a ride home, bleeding to death.

All students would be about in the middle of class now, she suspected, aside from the occasional wanderer or one with a bathroom pass. And the hall monitor. Can't forget the hall monitor, who was always looking for someone to abuse their power with.

Rainy eyed the lanky redhead from the other end of the long hall. He seemed to hesitate before pulling out his notepad and continue on his way. She then stuffed two strings of tissue up her nostrils.

She made sure to squeeze the bridge if her nose for more pressure to stop it.

The seat was a long, painted wire bench against paling white walls. Almost ironically, it was placed between the nurse's and one of the dean's offices.

Rainy looked to the clock high on the wall behind her. It was going on nine minutes now. Nine consecutive, long minutes and her head was now beginning to throb. That wasn't a good sign.. Her fingers returned to her temples and pressed. It was like there was something causing it to worsen; something that she searched to put her finger on but just quite couldn't...

It dawned on her to realize it was the sound of lockers that caused her returning head-throbbing.

Her head whipped around until catching the source—it was someone trailing a hand on the locks, causing the clangs to echo as they lightly jogged to her direction.

SHADES

SILVER

BLACK

VANS

She caught the sight of a head of familiar silver hair and she frowned. She watched the boy stomping quickly down the hallway and seeming to be staring off at something. A pair of dark shades contrasted greatly with his hair and made it difficult to determine just what he was watching more.

Rainy clamped her hands over her nose, hiding the tendrils behind a clean clump of tissue. She looked away, turned her back to his general direction, and pulled both tissues away, hoping he would just pass by. She'd be damned if she let _him_ see her that way.

Blink

He looked up, reached for something at the top of the lockers, and Rainy peeked over her shoulder just in time to catch his dark unbuttoned shirt flutter along to the disperse of loose papers falling behind him.

Blink

He plucked something—a toothpick?—from between his teeth, slowing to remove his shades catching the same hall monitor eyeing him.

Blink

The boy paid no attention to anyone around, one earphone in helping to block out the world.

To herself, Rainy turned her nose up and made it so he would barely be able to see a quarter of her face. She fumbled a little with jamming the remaining tissues into her jacket pocket.

He plopped on the bench and pulled out the stress ball he stole from his teacher before leaving without a regard for anyone else. So, he too didn't noticed the other until after several throws, one going particularly too high and had reached to catch it—which was all about seven seconds passed—that he noticed the other present, turned a way away.

Pietro looked the person—a girl—over before realizing it was the girl from english class, Rainy. He stretched his arms. A hand fiddled still with the stress ball. He paused, debating whether to begin something or leave her be. Both were seated at opposite ends of the bench.

"Fancy seeing you here."

The hallway remained quiet.

"So, uh, Juliet...what're you here for? Cheating on a test? Too many tardies?" It was almost like he was mocking her.

Somewhere off, the echo of a slammed locker door reached them.

Pietro pursed his lips. "You know, I always thought you to be someone who's too good to do anything like this—anything bad, I mean. Never got into a fight either, huh, I bet. What you get all the boys to fight for you? Seems typical."

She met him with silence, and a glare in his direction followed by turning her nose.

Pietro merely watched her and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. He shuffled in his seat. "They say there's a girl here who seemed to get a kick out of those who have tried talking to her.. Says that she's all hard 'nd crap 'nd doesn't like talking to people like no one's good enough." He grinned widely. "...Probably because her boyfriend hasn't slid her the _hot beef injection_ yet..." He then opened his mouth as if just remembering something, but it too was sarcasm. "Oh, that's right~! That was _you_, wasn't it!"

She didn't answer. Rainy raised a brow, still not turning his way.

He continued, turning to a different tone: "Ya know I once knew a guy who got suspended for cracking one across the face of one of the coaches, that one who just got fired. ..But then again, there was a girl who got suspended for one thing or another of something like it..."

His attention was taken as he caught the sight of blood when he looked over at her. "I know I'm handsome but damn. Those must be really _filthy_ thoughts to have a nosebleed already." His arrogant grin shone through again.

"As if," her growl almost incoherent. "Any thoughts as that would be considered irrational and quite illogical to someone as myself. Besides, given the current selections here, I would have to pick...no deal."

The corners of his lips wavered. He watched as she sniffed, turned away, pulling something from her pocket and then walk over to the trash bin. When she returned, her face was clean once more.

He paused. "So Juliet, what'd you get called up here for?"

There was a hesitance in the air.

"The nurse's."

Pietro made a silent _"ahh."_ Then, "for what? A broken arm, sprained ankle, ruptured spleen...some _boo-boo _you got?"

No answer.

"Or you just going to call _Daddy_ to come and get you out of class?" Pietro mocked.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was smiling, pleased at his own joke.

Almost everyone knew her father, so that was expected.

"It's none of your business."

He paused. "...Fair enough." He poked his lip out a little and shrugged. "Guess I just had my hopes up too high for someone like you, huh?"

She looked back at him, still refusing to turn around. "Someone like me..? What would anyone with the likes of _you_ know _anything_ as that; you do realize that you are talking to a stranger, don't you; you don't truly know anything about me."

He then laughed a little. "Yeah—no. I've heard the rumors."

"The rumors," she cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

His smile was gone. "The rumors."

She was still unconvinced.

"The rumors of the girl with a mouth so bad it makes everyone runs for the hills," he stated bluntly. "Says that's she almost a teacher's pet and puts up a face to everyone and all just because her daddy's going to be the head of town. Acts stiff, edgy, and hard nut you crack, you know—all the typical symptoms of the diagnosis _'virgin_._'_" He was now smiling widely to himself and was turned fully towards her. "Or, if you can even _"remember" _that," he added in a snarky manner.

Rainy had only turned a little, making sure to leave her back, and now _much _space, between them.

She remained quiet as her eyes ran over the boy next to her. "Is that so?" she tested. "And how trustworthy are those words coming from someone with such a big ego and without the little friend to match?"

Pietro's smile faltered. His lips set in a line.

LIES

RUMORS

FALSE

"You are just as experienced, giving yourself to talk," she scolded. She turned to herself again and began toying with her hair. "So, it _is _true that you are some kind of stalker, that one with silver hair?" she tested with her own venom. She tilted her head to the side a bit. "I bet that in the morning, if you squint, you might look older than you are. With your hair and all." She had squinted her eyes when she mentioned the act.

Rainy sniffed to make sure no blood had fallen and looked toward the nurse's door. She inwardly hoped that the door would open soon.

Pietro was now staring at her with a hard look.

"Juliet—you also went to Winchester Middle School; m

oved here about four years ago; attended Mr. Trevelyan's science class last year ago. By the way, why _do _they call you weak? I mean, judging by you, you don't look like anything's wrong. 'Cause I remember that back in Mr. Trevelyan's c—-"

"Don't ask questions if you can't handle the consequences of knowing."

_Was that a threat?_

Pietro's brows furrowed. A pause hung in the air.

"What'_s _your deal, Juliet?" his eyes squinted. He was now fully turned toward her with a leg folded across the other. His grin slowly returned more arrogant than before. "Because it seems like you are just one tough shell to break open."

ONE FINGER

"First, it isn't _Juliet_, stalker. ...For someone who supposedly knows a lot about people, you sure are poor at it, missing the most small and important details," she mocked.

TWO FINGERS

"Two, don't go around acting like you genuinely want to know about everyone, because I'm _sure _that you have unresolved personal issues as well." She lowered her fingers and now pointed the index at his exposed white t-shirt. "Anyhow, that still does not justify your actions of deliberately jumping to a conclusion and judging based on feeble and exaggerated words of others who have no better time than that."

"So are you saying I'm lying?" It wasn't spoken as a question, but he really was curious.

"I'm neither saying that you are nor are you not," she answered, still having her back to him and only turned her head to his direction. "All I _am _saying is that anyone smart enough would not fall to believe _any _rumors and be taken as truth. ...But then again, you _are _a part of the C-crew, aren't you?"

The C-crew were a group of students who have seemed to never get out of the C-average grading range.

Pietro's cocky smile was long gone now. His eyes raked over the girl in front of him, contemplating on how to respond. Her back was to him, so he wouldn't have to deal with her judgmental glare.

Word here sure goes around fast

He breathed. Pietro folded his hands and leaned in her direction. "..Don't take this the wrong way but you're as cold as ice with an attitude like a cactus." His face was straight, trying to hold back a snarl. "Why _are _you so cold?"

"Again, don't ask questions you do not want to find the answers to.."

Her tone was so calm...and it was beginning to irritate him extremely.

"Anyways, from someone with the likes of you, I'm surprised that you would even be here, bothering to _talk_ with someone as higher up the scale as I."

Now that was just insulting...

Rainy's brows rose. "What? Where you going to attempt at asking one of those vulgar come-ons?"

He didn't answer.

She raised a hand to her face, eyes wide as if in surprise. "Did I beat you to the punch?" Her concern was fake. "Oops."

By this point, Pietro wore a studying glare to the girl. Just what game was she trying to play at, he wondered.

"Well, that's one thing off your troubles," she sighed. "Anyway, I'm sure that a guy like you would have something better to do that try to hit on a girl. ...Well, it's hoped that one would have something better to do with time than going to the principal's."

"Oh, so now you're switching up? Jumping to conclusions are you now; a little hypocritical, isn't it. I'm hurt."

So now they were on the same level of sass

Another silence followed them.

She just stared at him.

And he didn't look away.

It continued for some time—to the point of irritation for him—until:

"Do not try to be friendly with me," she spoke. "Any attempt at it will be feeble and useless and it would save a lot of trouble and unwanted prying. So," she pointed at him again," stay away from my way." Her finger lowered to her side. "You should feel lucky, grateful even—I'm letting you off nicely. The last Neanderthal had the impudence to question me to jump on him," she wrapped her arms around herself as if she felt hurt, "in such ungraceful vulgarity."

"Well I don't even know the _definition_ of impudence," he admitted. "But I can guarantee you that some are passed the stage of Neanderthals." He paused, it seeming only a second. "And that you _did _beat me to it," he admitted only to see her roll her eyes and turn away.

Rainy folded her arms. "Typical." She pointed her gaze down the hallway, _opposite _of him.

"Wh—-That's not what I—-"

"If you don't have anything intellectual or _worth_ the time to say, it'd save you the trouble as well as those around who would have to put up with that inadequacy going into their ears, that to just not at all."

"I'm all about time!"

He didn't know 'adequacy' either...

"And I—-"

Rainy attention was taken to the door hearing chairs screeching inside. She stood when the door swung open.

Pietro had stopped mid-sentence. He watched as a blonde exited the room and wiping away stray tears.

Rainy greeted the nurse and slinkd inside.

A moment later, Pietro sat back with crossed arms. He bit the inside of his cheek.

When he was called in, he was accused of several malfunctions in the teachers' lounge. This included some suddenly-missing personal items, such as a collector's sports mug; plastic wrap on all of the toilet seats; and a the screws to the enitre office of one of the teachers.

Pietro had merely sat with his arms across the back of the seat and a leg propped, trying to hold back his smile.

The man could complain as much as he wanted, but there was no way he could prove the boy had done it. This just made it that much better for Pietro.

**. . .  
****. . .**

Later that day, Rainy wouldn't know, but she crossed paths with the speedster again. It was in the library with Meisha that he overheard that strawberry blonde, Sherry, speaking about a 'mission' to come back to the school during after-hours.

Pietro had smiled to himself. This would give him the perfect opportunity to get back at that teacher who had sent him to he office.

This 'mission' was to commence in a few days. That would give him more than enough time to plan..

* * *

**_A/N: Ironically, I had gotten a nosebleed from the blazing heat here when I began writing this. And yes I did slip in a Breakfast Club quote :P_**

**_I plan to go to another party this friday so unless something happens I won't be sure when I will update._**

**_I have a question to other writers because I want to know if I am seriously the only person or not. When writing a story, do you have to force yourself to not get too much into another fandom, because if you do you'll most likely drift too far away from your current one you're writing? This has happened to me with two stories before where I forgot what I wanted to go and do with the story and I just couldn't wrap my brain around it anymore. And I'm afraid of doing the same right now. _**

**_But seriously, am I the only one? ?_**

**_Replies:_**

**_ to Cyanide Siren: _**_Thanks! Let's see...to answer your question...yes, there will be input about the X-movies. But I have to remember that since there was (sadly) very little screen time for the Maximoffs, more will be happening in the second arc. And I do plan to have references to other Marvel material, but for the X-Men ones, there will be references about the older ones (unless I change my mind) but DoPF will DEFINITELY be involved and not merely glanced over._

**_to flirtingwithanarchy: _**_(Love your username!) __Thank you so much! :)__  
_

**_to Raven: _**_Oh my gosh PLEASE DON'T apologize! It's all good. It's so lovely to...read your words again! :) lol (can't say HEAR in this situation huh?) And don't worry, we all squeal like little girls now and then (I admit I did seeing your review ;p )__  
_

_Ok. So there will be more interactions coming soon, especially after next chapter. Yay? :p  
Oh, and Meisha and Ronny aren't the only mutants I'm planning to have in here; there will be OC ones and canon ones (hint hint). And about the rushing, I don't like rushing my stories either purposely because there are too many things I want to add in here for to do that and not make it a 60+, or so, stand-alone story. I have read other stories, though they were very good, they seemed to go too fast and there were parts that I didn't feel fit at the right place and time, though that is my personal opinion. (The only story I think I might have rushed was a short story...)_

_And you, my friend, the many times you make me smile is absolutely ridiculous. :D I don't know if it is beginning to be overused or not of all the Thank You's I want to send you. Every. Freakin'. Time. Overall, I'm glad I could make you happy :) I am truly trying with this story, I'm beginning to think TOO much... I hope this chapter was ok though.._

_Anyways...I didn't know what to call ya because, you know how some people can be picky on what you call them, so I said that just to be sure._

**_._**


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